Revelations
by sinking815
Summary: When the Separatists offer a cease-fire, Supreme Chancellor Palpatine assembles a team of Loyalists and Jedi to negotiate the terms. For Senator Amidala and Anakin Skywalker, this means a chance at reunion after months apart. But it also means proximity, and proximity can be dangerous when those close hold secrets even closer. Set approx. 8 months pre ROTS. Intended canon.
1. Chapter 1

_A/N: This little tale has been brewing in my head for a number of years, but I've never had the time and/or drive to post it until I recently found myself reading some great novels bridging AOTC and ROTS. Despite the known lack of development in the films, the secret relationship between Anakin and Padme has fascinated me, so I've taken it upon myself to flesh out the story. I also am a firm believer that in ROTS, Bail knew of or heavily suspected about Padme's children's paternity. Some of the recent Clone Wars novels also seem to hint at this being a possibility, which inspired me to figure out this plot bunny and write it. Side note: I end with chapters with ~Fin and the story is complete when ended ~Finis. Just to clear up any confusion, :) Reviews are always appreciated!_

* * *

 **Coruscant  
** **Senate Office Building  
** **Senator Amidala's Office  
** **190000 hours**

For the fifth time that evening, Padmé pored over the proposal delivered during the Senate's morning session. The esteemed Senator from Malastare seemed to think that finding funding for upgrades on the Republic's war fleet was essential to resolution of this war. He had outlined a substantial budget increase for renovations of all the command starships and starfighters, a staggering sum amount which only could be accessed by diverting funds away from relief programs. Outrage and incredulity were the initial responses to his address, both of which admittedly, Padmé herself had felt. It went against her firmest platform, that supplementing this war financially would only further its duration. Her previous voting record demanded that she fight against this act tooth and nail.

And instead what had she done?

" _The Senate recognizes Senator Amidala of the Naboo."_

She had thought of Anakin.

" _The floor is yours, Senator."_

Sighing heavily, Padmé powered down her datapad, and swiveled her chair away from her desk. The throbbing in her head increased with the memory of each word she had spoken in favor of the budget restructure. The proposal had passed overwhelmingly after her impassioned plea, and while her heart danced at the thought of providing further safety and advanced weaponry to her husband, her mind wondered what blow she had delivered to her position on the Loyalist Committee.

 _It doesn't matter. I would do it for him again_ , she thought fiercely.

Opening her eyes, her gaze rested on the endless stream of Coruscant traffic, the multitude of headlights and taillights seemingly a steady river of white and red. Padmé stared out into the darkening night until her vision blurred and she wasn't really seeing them anymore. She knew the wave of anguish was coming even before it washed over her in full force.

 _Anakin!_

Her heart besieged her with such emotion instant tears sprang to her eyes. She swiped at them viciously and tried desperately to resolve herself against her grief.

But five months was wounding to say the least. Each passing day an additional grain of salt to sting and fester the deepening rift.

In the confines of her office, Padmé gave herself over to her tears and wept for the frustrations of the day and the loneliness of yet another evening without Anakin by her side. The worries always came hot and vivid when her guard was dropped. Was he safe? Was he alone? Was he thinking and worrying over her too? She reached for him, hoping he might feel her thoughts wherever he might be.

The gentle brush against her mind was almost startling in its clarity. A deep warmth passed through her, and Padmé blew out a long calming breath, fortified at the strength he gave her through their bond. Her heart soared knowing his presence was somehow near. Drawing on her invigorated strength, she collected herself and began gathering her belongings, intent on heading home for the evening.

Perhaps, he was close enough she could comm him. Perhaps…

A musical chime broke her optimistic line of thought and Padmé groaned when she saw the Chancellor's heralding beacon. What could he possibly want from her at this hour? Steeling against her frustration, she rearranged her face and opened the channel.

"Supreme Chancellor, to what do I owe the pleasure?"

"My dear, I apologize for the intrusion this late, but I must request your presence in my office at your earliest convenience."

Padmé suppressed a sigh. "I have not yet left the building for the night. I can be there momentarily."

"Excellent," he smiled at her. "I assure you this late rendezvous will certainly lift your spirits."

His hologram disappeared before she could question him further. Puzzled by his upbeat demeanor, Padmé wondered what good news could possibly arrive at this hour of the night.

"Well no sense in waiting, I suppose," she whispered to herself.

She retrieved her datapad and evening cloak, keying the security protocol for her office on her way out. She swept the heavy dark brown fabric over her shoulders and smiled at its familiar welcome weight. Padmé had the cloak commissioned for her by a well-known seamstress from Naboo after Anakin had given it to her during a particularly short visit. The hem of the tunic had become frayed from wear and tear and he had insisted she take it as a piece of him. The damaged Jedi robe was only going to be discarded for a new one when he returned to the Temple. As she walked, she swore she could still smell Anakin's scent tucked somewhere into its fibers.

The turbolift opened to the short private hall before the Chancellor's office. During regular hours, the hall was lined with four guards dressed in the characteristic crimson of Supreme Chancellor Palpatine's personal staff. Despite the late hour, Padmé was surprised they weren't at their stations. Rumors circled that the guard never left his side. She surmised that's what made it rumor rather than fact.

Reaching the office doors, she palmed the entry-pad and immediately realized why his security may have been granted a reprieve.

* * *

Anakin twitched imperceptibly with barely controlled patience as the gathering awaited for the last requested member to arrive. He could feel her shimmering presence just beyond the Chancellor's doors and it sent the Force tremoring in ripples around him. Obi-Wan turned to regard him for a brief moment, before seeming satisfied with what he saw on his former Padawan's face. If he already knew of their imminent reunion and he could just only hide his anticipation from the Jedi Master at his side, Anakin knew Padmé's genuine shock of seeing him would send tidal waves throughout the room.

Anakin projected a shield out the instant the door chimed and slid away to reveal his unsuspecting wife. He immediately engulfed her wayward emotions as she slowly took stock of her surroundings, though to her credit, her face betrayed nothing . Padmé's unadulterated thrill at seeing him almost broke his concentration, but Anakin bit his lip to keep the giddy smile off his own face.

"Good evening, Senator, and thank you for coming on such short notice."

Palpatine rose to greet Padmé personally and invited her to sit in the semi-circle of chairs that already contained Senators Organa, Mothma, Eekway, and Zar. Her chair was maybe five feet from him, and Anakin centered himself to contain his eagerness. He watched her formally greet the selected members of the Loyalist Committee and Masters Adi Gallia and Kenobi as decorum dictated, before she turned her gaze to him.

By the Force, she was beautiful.

"Master Skywalker," she said with a deferential nod and a careful smile. "It has been far too long. I trust you are well."

 _Anakin, I've missed you so, how are you?_

"Even better for being in your presence once again, milady," he nodded back, his returned smirk deliciously dark around the edges.

 _Well, now that I can see you, my angel._

He felt her heart flutter precipitously at his brazen charm, but she only shook her head as if amused and nothing more.

 _Careful, Ani._

She turned her brown eyes back towards Palpatine, expectantly, and took her seat. Anakin begrudgingly followed her lead. As he did, he caught Bail watching their exchange with puzzled concern. Anakin did not have long to ruminate on the Senator from Alderaan's expression before Palpatine spoke.

"Now we may begin," Palpatine said, folding his hands on his desk and leaning forward with zeal. "I have called you all here to discuss an exciting offer I have just received from the Separatist leaders. They wish to discuss the terms of a cease-fire."

The five Senators erupted into exclamations of surprise, quieting only when Palpatine raised a hand to halt their questions.

"It would appear that their resolve to sustain this war effort is dwindling, as I daresay so has ours. It is not lightly that I ask of you my next request, Senators, but I trust each of you implicitly even if you decide to decline." Palpatine surveyed each Senator before him deliberately. "I have selected the five of you to be my negotiations team at this cease-fire. You will be escorted by the three Jedi behind me to Spira. The Separatists are eager to commence talks and I have accepted their request for opening negotiation in two days time."

Anakin frowned as the emotions in the room slowly built in the ensuing silence after Palpatine's address. Shock. Suspicion. Worry. Exhaustion. Hope. He had felt them all himself just moments before when the Chancellor had briefed the Jedi. Then chaos erupted.

"Supreme Chancellor, if I may…"

"Which leaders are we talking…"

"Two days? It takes two days just to reach Spira!"

"Three Jedi to five Senators cannot possibly guarantee our safety."

Anakin's temper flared hotly at the last comment. The owner of the concern was Senator Fang Zar, the representative of the Sern sector, known for his staunch defense of civil liberties and his criticism for the sweeping amendments the Constitution had seen since the beginning of the Clone War. If he only knew how far a certain Jedi Knight was willing to go to save at least one of his colleagues…

"I agree with Senator Zar," Senator Mon Mothma said in her calm maternal voice. "With no disrespect to the three Jedi present, I am concerned for this group's security. Which leaders are we to meet with, and might this not be a trap?"

Padmé's eyes flicked to him for the briefest of glances, her eyebrows raised conveying Mothma had a point.

"Your concerns have been heard, Senators," Palpatine began, "Believe me, I have outlined details of this meeting to ensure the safety of all those involved as I am sure the Separatists have some anxiety about safety themselves. It was I, who negotiated for the presence of the Jedi as good faith something more sinister was not being set forth. I, myself, am not attending, in exchange for Count Dooku's absence. The Separatist delegation consists of Shu Mai, San Hill, Wat Tambor, Passel Argente, and Nute Gunray."

Through their connection, Anakin felt Padmé's pure resentment and anxiety climb to the stratosphere with his own hatred. All five members of the Separatist Council had handed down a verdict of imminent execution during their shared trial on Geonosis. And now he was going to not only face his condemners himself, but to allow his wife to sit at the same table? Anakin ground his teeth with such ferocity, Obi-Wan turned to regard him with a reproachful look.

"The Jedi guard eases my concerns, however that doesn't mean we aren't all walking into a trap," Bail Organa said.

The room settled into an apprehensive impasse. No one seemed to know what to say to dissuade the broiling anxiety bubbling effervescent beneath the surface.

Anakin reached out to Obi-Wan and Adi Gallia. Both Jedi seemed to harbor similar concerns for the task at hand but not to the same degree as himself. Then again, they didn't have their heart and soul being offered on a platter to her arch-enemy either. He turned his attention to Padmé who watched all three Jedi with deep concentration.

"I suppose that is a risk we must take for the possible reward of peace," she said evenly. She seemed to be speaking directly to him, though her eyes were back on Palpatine. "And I will accept your request, Chancellor, if it means a chance to end this war."

"Thank you, Senator," Palpatine replied. "Have no fear that your courage does not go unnoticed or unappreciated."

"Senator Amidala is right," Bail agreed, nodding in thought. He looked to the three remaining members of the delegation. "It would be wasteful to not pursue this opportunity."

"I will go," Senator Eekway said, "but Spira is almost two days travel itself. We'd have to leave tonight."

"Which is why I have already contacted your personal security and staff to prepare for your immediate departure," Palpatine said. "Forgive me for being so presumptuous, but I thought it was the least I could do considering the rapidity of this outstanding offer."

Anakin felt Padmé bristle, and knew she did not take kindly to the Chancellor's meddling with her chain of command. He understood how Obi-Wan must sometimes feel at his own moments of audacity.

"Very well," Padmé said, "When and where do we depart?"

Through the determination in her voice, Anakin also heard the fatigue of the next venture and the excitement to spend it with him. He immediately thought of the despair he had felt befall her earlier this evening, and hoped this trip would make up for the isolation of the past five months.

"The _Resolute_ has already been outfitted for your journey," Palpatine said. "If you can depart within the hour…" He let his voice trail to make it sound less of a formal request and more of a compassionate suggestion.

"And so we shall," Bail said, rising and bowing courteously. "Thank you, Supreme Chancellor, and rest assured, if a cease-fire can be made, it will be done."

"Thank you, Senators," Palpatine responded, dismissing his delegation with a returned bow. "And my sincere thanks to you Masters." He nodded his respect towards Obi-Wan and Adi, both of whom returned the acknowledgement, before following the delegation out of the office. "Oh, Anakin, a word, if you please."

Anakin halted in his tracks and glanced toward his former Master. Obi-Wan's mouth turned down ever so slightly, cautiously disapproving of the Chancellor's request, though he quickly tried to cover it by rearranging his face into a contemplative expression.

"I'll be along shortly, Master," Anakin said, using the title not for Obi-Wan's position on the Jedi Council, but as a gentle recognition for Obi-Wan's fatherly concerns.

"Do hurry, Anakin," Obi-Wan smiled over his shoulder. The turbolifts doors opened and the Jedi Master boarded with the group. "We do have a timetable to keep."

As the doors closed, Anakin just caught Padmé's demure smile and failed to keep his own off his face.

* * *

Palpatine studied the young Jedi Knight before him. Anakin's gaze still lingered after the vanished party, but his sheer anticipation was palpable even hidden beneath his Force shield. Palpatine had thought it quite gallant of Anakin to attempt to hide the radiant emotions zipping between himself and the Senator from Naboo. While he may have blinded Masters Kenobi and Gallia, the Chosen One still wasn't strong enough to ward off the Dark Lord himself.

The young couple's auras burned a brilliantly dangerous red. Such feelings that practically electrified the room. Such passion that so easily could be manipulated to whichever emotion he so chose for Anakin's undoing. Two almost ripened shuura fruit, so tantalizing, so…

"Chancellor?"

Palpatine blinked, his vision focusing slowly again on a pair of dark blue eyes.

"Is everything all right?"

Palpatine laughed a grandfatherly chuckle years in the making and clapped Anakin's shoulder.

"Ah yes, my boy, I fear these long days and late hours have been catching up with me."

Anakin helped him to a chair, worry evident on the young man's face.

"Is there anything I can do to help?"

 _Oh but you already are…_

"Anakin, I know I can trust you," he began.

"Absolutely, sir," Anakin said, bending to his knees at the Chancellor's side.

"I don't believe that the importance of this mission can be overstated. This opportunity I fear will not present itself again. But I also fear that my confidence in front of the delegation may have been for show."

"For show?"

"I fear their concerns over this meeting being less than sincere have plagued me more than I have let on," Palpatine explained.

Anakin stared at him, concern creasing his brow and making the scar over his right eye stand out even more.

"Is there something else, Chancellor?"

Palpatine let himself grin, meekly. "No, no," he said, laughing quietly at himself. "Just a feeling of unease. Probably nothing but a silly old man worrying over a dear friend…"

"You mean…" Anakin swallowed, grasping their mutual concern. "You mean, Senator Amidala?"

"I do worry about her, Anakin," Palpatine said. "In a way, I still feel responsible for her. I argued with myself whether or not to ask her to join this task force, considering her extensive history with the Separatist Council, but I was more afraid what may happen had she found out I had not included her. She is a force to be reckoned with when angry, I assure you."

Anakin laughed openly at that.

"That she is," he agreed. Then his voice turned more somber, threatening even. "Don't worry, nothing will harm her. I won't allow it."

The Dark Lord inside Palpatine thrilled at the murderous emotion in the young man's tone. Such potential…

"Good, good," Palpatine purred. "How glad I am to have you on my side, Anakin. Thank you for giving me peace of mind."

Anakin glowed at his praise.

"Anytime, Chancellor."

He bowed deeply in deference and appreciation, an action that Palpatine dismissed embarrassedly with a wave of his hand.

"Now hurry, before I make you later than I already have."

With that, Anakin spun and strode from the room after his colleagues.

Inwardly, the Dark Lord smiled at the long black cloak billowing ominously behind the young Jedi Knight.

* * *

 **Coruscant  
** **The Resolute  
** **Command Bridge  
** **204700**

Obi-Wan resisted the urge to tap his foot. Impatience was most unbecoming for a High Master of the Jedi Council. Instead, he kept his hands clasped firmly behind his back and stood stock still. If Adi Gallia felt his anxiety, she didn't show it. Her brown eyes silently tracked the clone command crew finishing the final preparations of the large Republic starship.

 _The Resolute_ wasn't the largest vessel Obi-Wan had had the pleasure of running, but it was one of the newest in the Republic fleet. Its central command bridge stretched nearly fifty meters with viewports surrounding the main catwalk 270-degrees. The controls demanded a crew of ten to fifteen troopers and pilots at any given time to coordinate the mammoth ship's movements and life support systems. Surveying the clones working in the trenches on either side of him, Obi-Wan could see the state-of-the-art displays and readouts changing at rapid speed beneath the trained soldiers fingertips.

 _Oh, how Anakin would salivate over this…_

Speaking of, where in the blazes was he?

As if on command, his former apprentice came careening out of the turbolift doors like a ball of uncontained energy. He only slowed his break neck speed when he realized the scrutiny of Adi and Obi-Wan. Anakin gave a sheepish grin when he at last came to join them on the bridge.

"My apologies, Masters," Anakin said.

Obi-Wan studied the young Knight with a surreptitiously questioning look, but Master Gallia didn't feel the need to handle Anakin's relationship with Palpatine as gently.

"Anything we should be aware of from the Chancellor?" she asked, her tone leading.

Obi-Wan watched Anakin's resentment at the judging tone rise and then fade from his face so quickly, he might have imagined it.

"The Chancellor shares the same concern as the Senators of this requested cease-fire having an alternative motive," Anakin said. "I can't sense any malice but still feel a general unease."

Obi-Wan nodded, agreeing with Anakin's assessment of their current situation.

"It's truly out of Wild Space, this sudden desire for peace," Obi-Wan replied. He looked to Master Gallia. "I must admit something does seem out of place."

"We must be diligent. It will important for all of us to keep a constant pulse on this situation. Any subtle changes should be brought to everyone's attention," Adi Gallia said, her brow furrowed in contemplation.

Obi-Wan and Anakin's silence was a resounding accord.

"Well, the final checks are done," Obi-Wan said, after a moment. "And it is late. I suggest we reconvene with the Senators tomorrow morning once they've had some time to more thoroughly debrief. I suppose someone should address them and escort them to their quarters."

He looked pointedly at Anakin.

"Oh no but surely Master, you wouldn't miss the chance to say good night to your politican friends?" Anakin teased.

Despite his feigned horror at the task, Obi-Wan could practically feel Anakin's heart pounding in excitement. He hadn't been blind to the sudden shield that surrounded Senator Amidala the moment she walked into Palpatine's office. Unless he was gravely mistaken, Obi-Wan was fairly confident the Senator from Naboo wasn't adept at Force-shielding her emotions.

"While it does grieve me, Anakin, it really is your turn to deal with them. It's only fair," Obi-Wan jested.

"All right, Obi-Wan, but next time I insist…" Anakin conceded.

"Best not keep them waiting then. Temperamental creatures…"

Anakin laughed and bowed dutifully to both Masters to bid them a good night.

As they watched him go, Adi spoke.

"And so this is how a mission with the infamous duo of Kenobi and Skywalker begins," she said, trying to hide an amused smile.

Obi-Wan grinned.

"Oh Master Gallia, we're just getting started."

* * *

As she watched her husband walk in front of her, Padmé wondered if this was what torture felt like. Two feet away and she couldn't just reach out and touch him, no matter how badly she wanted to. Instead, she'd have to settle for letting her eyes do what her hands could not.

Anakin always looked different with each return. At first, the changes were drastic. His hair was longer. His shoulders broader. His Padawan braid severed. Recently, the changes were more subtle. His eyes, though bright, were tinged with an underlying weariness. His usually exuberant energy had waned. His words carried a heavier weight.

"Senator Zar," her husband said, palming the entry pad and gesturing as the door slid open to the residence within. "Your quarters."

Senator Zar trundled forward, pausing only to address the welcoming Jedi and to momentarily act out a traditional chivalry on his colleague's behalf.

"Thank you, Master Jedi," he began in his drawling voice. "Though I must insist Senator Amidala not be burdened to wait for respite any longer."

Padmé was about to decline Zar's offer, but Anakin beat her to it.

"Most gracious of you, Senator," Anakin replied, light-heartedly. "But Senator Amidala's personnel have requested larger residence for their lady." He leaned into the older politician with a conspiratorial grin. "Between you and me, I do not believe her wardrobe would fit here."

Padmé raised an eyebrow warningly at Anakin's teasing, but Zar laughed amused at her husband's joke.

"Indeed," he chuckled, a rare show of emotion for the usually placid Senator. "Well, Senator, I will leave you to your unpacking, and my thanks to you for your escort, Master Jedi."

All three supplied the necessary deferential bow and Senator Zar disappeared into his temporary home.

Anakin turned to face her, eagerness all too evident in his eyes.

"If you'll follow me, Milady," he said, allowing his hand to gently find her elbow.

Padmé shuddered at the contact and felt the blush climbing her cheeks scorch hotter under Anakin's watchful stare. She didn't dare trust her voice, and let him guide her through a series of corridors, noticing only after several minutes, how far her room was from the other Senators.

"Just round this corner," Anakin said, as if sensing her thoughts. "I apologize for the distance but warships aren't usually designed to accommodate so many important personnel."

They came to a stop before an unassuming door much like the ones her colleagues had disappeared behind. Padmé quickly searched her husband's face with questions and noted the subtle nod he gave her, his eyes darting once to the security cam behind her right shoulder. This routine was a like a carefully choreographed dance by now, and while she suspected the GAR ships to be heavily outfitted with surveillance, Padmé still felt her heart fall at the thought of spending this trip at arm's length. She blinked back her disappointment, her mind furiously working out a scenario to keep him in her sights a little longer.

"Senator?"

His fingers on her shoulder were scorching even through the dense fabric of her gowns and robe. Padmé looked up, instantly drowning a sea of blue.

"I'm sorry, Master Jedi. I seemed to have spaced out," she said, pulling herself back just a step out of his reach. She was sure he could feel the roiling emotions tumbling over and over inside her, and silently thanked him for allowing her the minute to regain her composure.

"It's quite alright," Anakin said, reaching out to access the security panel. "I hope the suite is to your liking, Senator."

The door slid aside but neither of them even bothered to look in. Anakin stared, a moment longer than decorum allowed before beginning to turn on his heel.

"Good night…"

"Anakin!"

He paused and turned back to her, folding his hands behind his back, barely keeping a smile off his face.

"Yes, Milady?"

Padmé stepped forward almost timid, her eyes wandering up and to the right at the cam over her shoulder, signaling to him her intent.

"Forgive me, I know the hour is late," she began, "But my captain of security has requested a review of his plan by one of the Jedi, if it's not too much to ask…"

"Of course, Senator. Your security is paramount to my mission," Anakin stepped aside, gesturing to the entrance. "After you."

Padmé had barely crossed the stateroom's threshold when strong hands spun her around, his body pressing hers against the wall, his mouth capturing hers in a fervent kiss. Somehow, despite the rush of blood in her ears, she heard the door quietly hissing shut behind them. For a moment, the galaxy faded to non-existent, a respite lighted by their passionate reunion.

When she pulled away, her limbs tingled with liquid heat and she was fairly certain Anakin was responsible for keeping her upright.

"Did you disable the cam?" she asked, her voice light and breathy.

Anakin smiled wickedly.

"And the audio feed."

He let her think through the meaning of that before pressing his mouth to hers once again.

Then, Padmé felt Anakin everywhere.

His hands freed the restrictive clothing of her gowns. His lips danced over the pulse on her neck. His voice, dangerously low, whispered in her ear between frantic kisses.

Her own small hands worked just as quickly, peeling the layers of his Jedi tunic back to reveal his tanned skin. She had freed his utility belt, its heavy weight falling to the floor with a resounding thud, as he scooped her in his arms, kissing her senseless while he walked.

Padmé was momentarily aware of the sound of streaming water before she was thrust beneath the hot shower. The water was steaming, almost too warm for comfort, but the gentle stinging sensation was electrifying in the wake of their heady desire.

After a moment, Anakin pulled back, his breath still coming fast and heavy. He fixed her with his beautiful dark blue eyes, his blonde hair matted down beneath the pulse of the shower tangled in her fingers. Reverently, he tucked a stray lock of her own wet hair behind her ear, fixing her with a devilish grin.

"I'm afraid this security plan does not account for roving Jedi Knights..."

She smacked him lightly on the chest and laughed when she splashed him with water. Anakin grasped her wrists, pulling them up over her head and pinning them against the shower wall. He fixed her with his best serious stare.

"We need to overhaul the entire plan. It may take all night, Milady," he said, trying and failing to sound apologetic.

Padmé felt his hand leave hers, though her wrists still were gently tethered to the wall by an invisible hold. She was acutely aware of his flesh fingers slowly blazing hot tracks over her collarbone, and then lower, lower, following the hot streams of water flowing unabashedly down her front. When Anakin found what he was looking for, Padmé's head fell back in bliss.

"By all means, then, Master Jedi," she gasped. "Take all night."

~ _Fin_


	2. Chapter 2

_A/N: Yay, people reviewed! I'm very excited how well received the first installment was. It's terrifying to put your work out there for the first time, especially to a brand new audience, and patiently wait for flowers or tomatoes to be thrown your way. I have the general plot of this story fleshed out, and it would seem that it may be quite long. Which is good for you, gentle readers, but not always good for me. Apparently real life calls from time to time, though I will try my best to update fairly frequently. As always, reviews are appreciated._

* * *

 **Spira Atmospheric Arrival Lanes  
** **The** _ **Cricket**_ **, Public Transport Cruiser  
** **Main Cafeteria  
** **061730**

Zed Wyatt pondered the message's contents again over a lukewarm cup of caf. There was little mystery to the actual words itself, but more to whether or not he believed them. Though, he thought with a snort, here he was, on his way to Spira to follow this wild goose chase, as it were.

A few days ago, his comm center had beeped with a rather formal looking text communication, not typically seen in his line of work. Most of his leads were whispers overheard from fellow entertainment journalists – he hated the word paparazzi -, or poorly coded messages from some civilian trying to find fifteen minutes of fame. Usually he could quickly weed out the tips that were most believable or most likely real from the pranks and outright lies. But this message had him stumped.

He slowly scrolled up and down the simple text on his datapad, re-reading the contents over and over.

 _Hideaway Bay Resort and Spa - Spira  
_ _Your reservation has been confirmed!  
_ _CODE: XTY58-07  
_ _2 patrons, 5 days, 4 nights – Honeymoon Retreat Suite_

 _Senator Amidala of the Naboo,_

 _On behalf of the staff at Hideaway Bay, we are honored by your trust in our community. Rest assured, Hideaway Bay caters to the highest echelons of privacy, exclusivity, and discretion. We hope you enjoy your stay._

 _Sincerely,  
_ _Lani Fellowill, Resort Manager_

Zed frowned, wondering for the millionth time how this confirmation had made it to his hands. Was it even real? Was the Senator actually _married_ or was this more likely a rendezvous with a secret lover?

He had thought it strange that such a well-known political figure would not utilize an alias for booking such a sensitive occasion. But then again, she was requesting a stay at one of the premiere resorts on Spira. Confirmation of her identity was probably a means to gain access to the fashionable retreat.

The program to trace the original source of the message had turned up nothing. Either Zed was the luckiest entertainment journalist alive for the accidental forward or he was barking up the tree of a well thought out prank.

He clicked off the datapad screen when a Twi'lek with roaming eyes sat at the far end of his table. Even if this reservation turned out to be false, a journalist like himself could not risk letting a colleague pick up this story.

Chugging the remaining caf, he stood and returned his cup to a dining cart reserved for used utensils and dishes. As he left the main cafeteria, Zed allowed himself to dream about the amount of credits a story like this would bring.

* * *

 **Hyperspace  
** **The Resolute  
** **Stateroom 520  
** **081420**

When she woke, Padmé was disoriented. Glancing at the chrono on the nightstand next to the bed, she sighed with relief when she realized it was only just past eight hundred, though she felt like she had slept forever. Funny, she thought, how six hours of sound sleep could feel like eons. Flopping onto her back, she covered her eyes with one arm, letting herself listen to the thrum of the ship's engines.

A smile teased across her face as memories of the previous night flashed through her mind. She stretched beneath the covers, wincing when her muscles spasmed a little in protest. Yes, she was going to be fairly sore today. And Anakin would probably run circles around the ship for fun. Oh the difference four years made.

Well, she smirked, four years and a Jedi.

Reaching out to find said Jedi, Padmé was met with cool sheets much to her confusion.

"Lights," she said, amending their intensity with "Dim" when they came on full blast.

Once her eyes had adjusted, Padmé was greeted with an empty bed. She frowned before catching the flimsiplast folded carefully on his pillow. Tucking the bed sheet underneath her arms, she sat up to read the note.

 _My dearest Angel,_

 _I felt Obi-Wan searching for me this morning and have gone to meet him. I'm not sure when you'll find this but it's only 0630 now. Come find me when you're ready._

 _All my love, A_

Refolding the note, Padmé swung out of bed and crossed the room to her packed belongings. The wardrobe was stuffed full. Her dark, more serene, stately gowns hung on the left dwindling to lighter brighter dresses on the right. A black little number sandwiched between two pastel summer gowns caught her eye. Padmé shifted the clothes to better examine it.

The black dress was a sheer shimmer silk overlaid with an intricate lace pattern. Padmé felt her cheeks warming as she studied the plunging backline and above-the-knee length cut to the dress. A smaller piece of flimsi than Anakin left her was pinned to the tag.

Feeling like she knew who was behind this choice before she even read the note, Padmé retrieved the small paper and re-hung the evening gown.

 _Have fun! –Dormé_

Now the blush traveled well past her cheeks.

What was Dormé thinking? She most certainly would _not_ be wearing that out in public. Although…

Padmé pulled the dress out again, considering her husband's face, as she held it against herself. Then she remembered the whole point of this trip and instantly replaced it as if bitten.

"No, absolutely not," she scolded herself, instead grabbing the more conservative lavender dress next to it.

Her comm's chime sounded abruptly, and Padmé quickly accepted through audio only.

"Bail!" she exclaimed, recognizing the comm identification beacon.

"Good morning, Padmé! Sleeping in are we?" Bail teased.

"I'm sorry, I've been so exhausted recently," she replied, self-consciously wrapping herself in a robe.

"I completely understand, no need to explain yourself to me," Bail assured her. "How many committees are you on anyway?"

Padmé paused to count.

"Please don't answer that."

She laughed.

"Very well, what can I do for you?"

"It's more what you can do for yourself," Bail said. "You might want to come to the seventh level training center to see this."

Padmé smiled, thinking she might have an idea what Bail was so in awe of.

"I'll be there as soon as I can. Amidala, out."

She retreated to the refresher, purging all thoughts of the black temptress from her mind.

* * *

 **Hyperspace  
** **The Resolute  
** **Training Center, 7G  
** **083729**

Bail Organa of Alderaan had heard that no one rivaled Knight Skywalker or Master Kenobi when it came to lightsaber combat. But to hear about their talents was vastly different than seeing it in person. Seeing it in person was unbelievable.

It took him a moment to realize he was still holding his comm to his mouth even though Padmé had signed out several standard minutes ago. Quickly, he pocketed his comm and surveyed his surroundings. Senators Mothma and Zar were watching the performance with rapt fascination, while Master Gallia stood passively watching with a critical expression.

"And how do they not slice each other, exactly?" Senator Mothma asked, watching Obi-Wan parry a stream of vicious looking attacks with relative ease.

Bail opened his mouth to say he did not know, but a voice behind him made the small party turn.

"The saber's intensity is lowered when they spar," Padmé explained, nodding greetings to each Senator and lone Master.

Adi Gallia nodded, seemingly impressed.

"How do you know so much about lightsaber sparring, Senator?" she asked. Her tone was indifferent, not searching as Bail's would have been.

"Knight Skywalker has shared a few tales with me," Padmé said, simply. Bail followed her gaze to where she watched the younger of the two sparring Jedi, who looked over upon hearing his name.

"So it doesn't hurt then?" Bail asked, watching Padmé watch Anakin and entirely missing the Hero With No Fear get his rear end slapped with Kenobi's blade.

"Vape it!" Skywalker yelled, powering off his weapon and walking a circle to regain his composure.

"No, it'll leave a minor burn," Padmé said, trying to hide an amused grin.

"Ha, now that's the second time a pretty Senator has distracted you," Obi-Wan chided, lightly. "Come now, Anakin, focus!"

Padmé leaned over to Mon Mothma, whispering, good-naturedly, "I take it you were the first?"

"I think, when Knight Skywalker finally noticed me, he was surprised it wasn't _you_ ," the Senator from Chandrila whispered back, affably.

Bail watched Padmé's smile blossom across her face, and wondered if his friend knew how much she wore what he strongly suspected was her heart on her sleeve. She was positively glowing since the last time Bail had seen her, which was only just the previous night. Which reminded him of her defense of the new appropriations proposal , a conversation he was still intent on discussing at length with her. Frowning slightly, he turned away to watch Anakin, whose back was now facing his audience.

The young Knight had powered on his lightsaber once more, and was standing statue-still, his blade angled high and away, waiting for Obi-Wan to strike. Bail almost thought to call out when Master Gallia silently stalked the unsuspecting Jedi, but Padmé's hand on his arm gave him pause.

"Just watch," she mouthed.

"Ready whenever Anakin," Obi-Wan taunted, clearly seeing the surprise attack coming and trying to bait Anakin into the trap.

"Are you sure, Master?" Anakin said, not moving an inch.

The next moments happened so fast, Bail wasn't entirely sure he hadn't missed something. Adi Gallia had powered on her saber, running to engage Anakin full-bore, but the Knight had turned wielding two blue blades and leaving his former Master standing weaponless. The boy moved with blinding speed and stunning technique as Adi darted around him, trying to tempt him to drop one weapon.

But Anakin wasn't allowing it.

"Ha Master," he called over his shoulder, to a retreating Obi-Wan, "now that's the third time you've fallen for that!" He grunted when Gallia's blade crashed down on his crossed weapons, locking in a struggle of strength. The blades crackled with crystalline electricity. "What… happened to…'this weapon is your life?'"

Anakin threw Adi Gallia back on her heels and spun, deactivating Obi-Wan's blade and tossing it across the floor.

Obi-Wan stopped the weapon with his booted foot, calling it to his hand with the Force.

"I suppose I'm lucky enough to trust you with it, Anakin."

Bail and his fellow audience chuckled at the double meaning of Obi-Wan's words, amusement that dissolved into awestruck stares when Anakin engaged both Masters with relative ease. At times, Bail could only see a sphere of blue encasing Skywalker while Kenobi and Gallia attacked only the surface. As the minutes ticked by, the sphere became broken and Bail could see the boy tiring, though his resolve remained.

Eventually, Anakin drove both foes back far enough, he could retreat several steps and held his gloved hand up.

"Draw?" he yelled.

"Draw," Obi-Wan and Adi agreed.

All three Jedi gave quick salutes and powered down their weapons, Adi and Anakin collapsing to the floor panting hard. The Tholothian Master laughed between breaths.

"Thank the Force you gave up, Skywalker," she said. "I wasn't far behind."

"I wouldn't have given up," Anakin replied. "Except, I'm famished."

"Always thinking with your stomach," Obi-Wan said, pulling both Jedi to their feet.

Anakin only grinned as the three of them made their way over to the waiting Senators.

"That was quite entertaining, Anakin," Bail said, "And you too, Masters." He clapped Obi-Wan on the back.

"You're welcome for the show," Anakin replied, though Bail noticed his gaze was locked only on the short Senator to his right. He turned to see his fellow colleague's face, but Padmé had already turned away, walking with Senator Mothma over to join Senator Eekway who had just appeared at the training center entrance.

Anakin's eyes followed her until she disappeared, a rakish shine in them. Noticing Bail studying him, he blinked, and gestured grandly, "We'll meet you all for debrief after a trip to the 'fresher." His voice raised at the end to almost make it a question.

"Definitely," Obi-Wan said, joining their conversation, and then glancing pointedly at Anakin. "Because you reek like a Bantha."

The two Jedi walked away, sharing a laugh over whatever Anakin's comeback had been.

Bail stood, puzzling over what he'd witnessed in the past half hour. Ever since Lanteeb, he was much more attuned to his colleague's seeming preference for Anakin Skywalker, a fact that had left him feeling simultaneously empathetic and unnerved. But if Senator Amidala was playing with fire, Anakin Skywalker seemed all too willing to get burned.

"Senator?"

Adi Gallia had stopped by his side, a look of concern on her face.

"Just lost in thought," Bail said, shaking his head and finding a smile. "Deliberating breakfast desires."

"Let's go see what they have left, then, shall we?" Adi replied.

* * *

 **Hyperspace  
** **The Resolute  
** **Cafeteria, 6** **th** **level  
** **094100**

Padmé had almost forgotten that the vessel they traveled on was occupied with a full clone legion. Almost, that is, until she saw the cafeteria and the hundred or so troops scattered around the long bench tables. Most of the men didn't even bother to watch as the small entourage of politicians walked by, although a few raised their heads to study the non-clones in their presence.

Feeling her stomach gurgle hungrily as the smells of breakfast wafted closer, Padmé turned her attention away from the clones and collected a tray at the beginning of the line. The buffet was double lined with serving stations on both sides to alleviate the heavier traffic during regular mealtimes. Judging by the shortness of the line, most of the crew had already eaten their morning meals.

Plucking a few slices of meiloorun for her plate, she slid to the next station and hesitated. A cream liquid bubbled in a large stone pot, but didn't give off an aroma to help her determine what the mysterious item might. Deciding it might be porridge, she was about to reach for the spoon when…

 _You won't like that._

Padmé glanced across the servers to find Anakin's eyes. He slowly shook his head, pinching his face together in a disgusted expression before moving through the buffet. Well, she thought, moving on down the line, if Anakin won't eat it, she surely shouldn't.

Instead, she walked away with a hash that smelled delicious and what Anakin assured her, through another mental nudge, were not eggs from Lanteeb. He was waiting by the exit, his own tray piled with heaping amounts of foods, directing the small delegation to a nearby conference room. On the way to the cafeteria, Senators Eekway and Zar had suggested debriefing in more detail over breakfast, a suggestion that was readily agreed upon by everyone.

"Thanks for the heads-up," she said softly, as she approached. "What was that anyway?"

"I've tried it twice and I still don't know what it is," Anakin chuckled.

The conference room was circular by design. Its walls were shaded a deep maroon, the official color of the Republic, and reminded Padmé of the Chancellor's office. A large round table sat in the middle of the room surrounded by ten black chairs. An EMPED, or multi-purpose electronic device, was positioned in the very center of the table; its console pulsed a faint white light as it warmed. A stack of datapads rested next to the EMPED. As soon as everyone was seated, Senator Mothma distributed the stack, and Padmé powered up the machine.

Seeing the scroll bar on the screen continue to decrease in size as document after document loaded, Padmé instantly reached for her caf. She sighed, sinking into her chair, her eyes seeking Anakin, who she noted had not pushed the envelope by attempting to sit next to her. Her husband was devouring the food in front of him, not worrying himself at all with the datapad in front of him.

"This request from the Separatists doesn't make any sense," Senator Eekway began, startling Padmé out of her trance. "I spent most of the night trying to understand their motives and can't think of a single bargaining point."

Padmé felt herself flush, remembering what she had done with most of her own night. She didn't dare meet Anakin's eyes.

"What about trade routes?" Senator Zar suggested. "Could they be enticed through…"

"Senators, if I may," Obi-Wan interrupted. "With all due respect, we can sit here and guess about the Separatists demands all day. Might I suggest we first tackle our arrival plan?"

"Thank you, Master Kenobi," Bail said. "Control what we can." He scrolled through a portion of his datapad. "I see here we all have accommodations at Hideaway Bay. What an appropriate name for this clandestine meeting."

Quiet laughter circled the table for a moment and everyone seemed to take a deep collective breath. A hologram of Spira appeared in the center of the table, a red dot blinking over a large green island. Padmé presumed this to be the location of the resort Bail discussed.

"Chancellor Palpatine had the entire resort reserved for this meeting at great expense," Adi Gallia explained. "Because of the necessity for one location, the Separatists leaders will also be joining us in their stay."

She raised a hand before the protests could begin.

"The layout can be easily divided through the main courtyard," she explained, as the hologram before her zoomed in to a reveal a detailed blueprint of the hotel and its surroundings. "The entire east end of the property is Separatist territory. The Republic has the west end for its own private use."

Padmé felt the caf in her stomach churn at the thought of residing so near the Separatist Council. Learning this fact made her even more grateful for Anakin's presence.

"As you know, Spira remains neutral in this conflict and its government has even offered to supply armed security of its own to maintain the neutrality of the resort," Obi-Wan said. "Both parties felt a third presence was cumbersome, which is why the three of us are escorting you to this meeting and will remain with you for the duration of the negotiations."

"If we have three Jedi, how many droids do you think Gunray will bring?" Bail asked, his voice a little tight, his eyes quickly locking with Padmé's own concerned look.

"He asked for twenty," Anakin said, his jaw tense at a distant memory. "He eventually agreed to three B2 battle droids and five B1's."

Fleetingly, Padmé wondered how long the Jedi knew of the cease-fire if they seemed to be part of the initial negotiations time.

"And if he brings more than agreed upon?" Senator Zar asked.

"Then he'll be sorry," Anakin growled.

"Senators," Obi-Wan said, placing a warning hand on his former Padawan's arm. "I assure you, any one of us can easily handle the eight droids agreed upon."

"Ah, so we have the advantage," Mon said, offering a small smile.

The attempt at levity did lessen the growing tension in the room, though only marginally.

"So we have a location," Padmé said, trying to bring back the common ground. She finished the last bite of her breakfast and handed her plate to the protocol droid waiting on them. "What about interplanetary customs? Five Republic Senators accompanied by three Jedi will surely attract unwanted attention."

"Agreed, Milady," Adi Gallia said.

"Senator," Obi-Wan said, using his most formal tone and instantly setting Padmé on high alert. She did not miss the look of apprehension that passed between the two Council Members. "Chancellor Palpatine thought it may be best to use an assumed name and story to slip past customs. Now, I'm sure you know, Spira primarily deals in tourism of a personal nature, Hideaway Bay being one of the most exclusive resorts…"

She knew perfectly well, as did every other member of their little delegation, that Spira was notorious for accommodating vacationing couples and newly-weds, though some of its smaller tropical islands did host more family friendly retreats. What she did not know was why this all of a sudden involved her.

"Master Kenobi, if you're directing this conversation of romantic getaways specifically toward me, get to the point," Padmé said, feeling at once exposed and irritated. She felt Anakin's own unease spike through their bond.

 _Someone knows_ , she thought, panicking momentarily and then just as quickly shoving that panic aside. _Don't be ridiculous. If they knew, they most certainly would not be sending you to the most romantic paradise in the galaxy._

"We thought it most believable, Senator, that you might be the best candidate for a fabricated tryst," Adi Gallia explained gently.

"Tryst?" Padmé said, her tone furious. "Masters, my personal life is strictly my own and I prefer to keep it that way."

"Which is only another reason why you are the most logical choice," Obi-Wan said. "If someone recognizes you during the customs processing, an assumed identity wouldn't even be questioned; it would be respected."

"Senator," Mon Mothma said quietly beside her. Her voice was only low enough for Padmé to hear. "It does make for a credible story."

Padmé stared incredulously at her husband's former Master. To his credit, Obi-Wan did not back down from her blazing stare. She knew he too was remembering a conversation between the two of them after Geonosis that had left something of a bitter aftertaste in their relationship. How incredible of him to ask this of her now.

Somehow, Padmé swallowed her anger.

"Well then who's to play the part of my companion?"

She couldn't bring herself to say lover. Not with Anakin sitting across the room.

There was an uncomfortable silence before Padmé finally noticed to whom most eyes had wandered. It only took the center of everyone's attention a half minute more to realize it himself.

"Oh you've got to be kidding," Anakin said.

 _~Fin_


	3. Chapter 3

_A/N: Oh, you all flatter me! So many flowers and no tomatoes! I am so excited you seem to be enjoying this as much as I am enjoying writing it. There's one particular little scene in this chapter that I'm pretty proud of – the parallel was irresistible. ;) Some of the dialogue has been lifted but also tailored to the situation. I'm fairly certain most of you will understand when you read on. Hehe. As always, reviews are appreciated!_

* * *

 **Hyperspace  
** **The Resolute  
** **Hangar 15B  
** **115611**

The whole scenario was actually quite simplistic in design, a fact that made Obi-Wan Kenobi breathe a little easier.

To get five Senators and three Jedi to Hideaway Bay for negotiations with the Separatist Council, Padmé and Anakin, with aliases and his Jedi brother in full disguise as the Senator's paramour, would easily sail past the customs officials. Even if they did recognize the Senator at the checkpoint, her reservation at one of the most elite hotels on all of Spira was proof enough to back her supposed personal vacation plans. If the officials demanded to board, smuggling compartments built into the ship's main corridors were more than sufficient to hide the Senator's other traveling companions.

Now that everyone had been thoroughly debriefed and completed the walk-through of the actual ship upon which they would be traveling, the tensions during this morning's conference were dwindling in the face of rising adventure and excitement.

For everyone, except one.

The short silhouette had remained silent and reserved throughout the rest of the debrief.

He didn't have to be a member of the High Council to feel the turmoil roiling through the Senator from Naboo. Though her still figure belied any conflict she was dealing with, her ramrod straight posture and hardened mien gave Senator Amidala away. She was still fuming.

Obi-Wan sighed, massaging his left temple and steeling himself against the coming confrontation. Although it wasn't his idea to put his former Padawan and his infatuation in these ironic roles, he still felt obligated to apologize to her for the predicament. He only hoped she would see his genuine concern for what it was.

Hearing his booted feet coming up the ramp of the J-type Nubian Star Skiff, Padmé turned from staring out the craft's forward view windows, her lovely features frowning when she laid eyes on him.

"I'm surprised by your compliance with our current scenario," Padmé snapped, her tone sharp and meant to cut. "Of all people, surely you understand how unfair and hurtful this plan must be for Anakin."

"Milady, I appreciate and sympathize with your reservations," Obi-Wan said, trying for diplomacy. "And I know how carefully you will tread with Anakin's feelings…"

"The same way you treaded so carefully with mine?" Padmé interrupted. Her brown eyes threw daggers.

A flash of anger surged through Obi-Wan, but he quickly tamped down the volatile emotion.

"I promised you I would never do anything to hurt, Anakin," she continued. "If you want me to tread carefully with his feelings, perhaps you can grant us a moment to deal with this rather unfortunate situation so I can keep that promise."

She turned away as Bail approached, effectively ending the conversation.

"I didn't realize you had two ships, Senator…" Bail began. Padmé's face suddenly turned pale, a change not lost on either Bail or himself, instantly correcting when she recognized the teasing nature of his voice. "Especially one with such unique personal storage options."

"I don't," she quipped, her tone still laced with anger. "This one is not mine." She glanced at Obi-Wan who only gave her an acknowledging nod. "Now if you'll excuse me."

Stunned by her curt response, Bail watched her disappear up to the cockpit.

"Is everything all right?" the Senator from Alderaan asked, sensing the tense atmosphere.

"I fear Senator Amidala is most upset by her role in our arrival to Spira," Obi-Wan explained.

The two men began striding down the boarding ramp, following others in the group as they disembarked the starship. Fully debriefed, the delegation began to disperse, agreeing that the afternoon should best be left to strategize for the upcoming negotiation.

Bail paused, unsure if he should openly voice his own concerns about the Senator to Obi-Wan. He trusted the Jedi Master with his life, but wasn't sure of his place to discuss such sensitive matters. Instead, he opted for careful ignorance.

"I'm sure she's just concerned about her image if this gets out in anyway. She's an immensely private person."

Obi-Wan stopped mid-stride, considering the man before him. Bail Organa was keenly observant and almost famous for his ability to piece together seemingly disconnected information. It was what made him so successful as head of the Intelligence Committee that had aided crucial victories for the Republic during this war. Knowing of Bail's close relationship with Padmé, Obi-Wan was tempted to confide his concerns in the Senator from Alderaan.

"Once again, Bail," Obi-Wan said, continuing to walk, "Your wisdom humbles me. I'm sure Padmé's worried about her reputation as you said. She is a politician after all."

Bail laughed at his Jedi friend's subtle dig.

"One of the best," Bail agreed.

Yes, Obi-Wan thought, that's what's worrisome.

* * *

 **Hyperspace  
** **J-type Nubian Star Skiff  
** **Cockpit  
** **120344**

"Anakin? Where are you?"

Padmé rounded the corner to the cockpit and almost fell into the open floor panel at her feet. Despite her sour mood, she couldn't contain her knowing smile. A smile that greeted her husband's grease smeared face when he stood up from his tinkering. She crossed her arms and attempted to put on her best scolding look.

"Less than two hours on a new ship and you're already making modifications," she teased.

"Just upgrading the engines like I did on yours," Anakin replied. He bent down to re-apply the last cover plate, and collected his tools. "Can't expect me to fly such an ancient craft after piloting your exquisite…"

Intentionally pausing, he climbed out of the engine repair closet, and leaned in close to his wife.

"Starship." Anakin grinned smugly as her breath hitched at his proximity.

Even with his charismatic charm, Padmé felt the unease return, her anger resurfacing with a vengeance. She pushed her husband away, ignoring the look of concern that disrupted his playful grin.

"They've all left the hangar, Padmé," he said, coming to stand behind her as she faced the ship's central command console. Her right arm was folded across her body, supporting her left as she worried a nail between her teeth. "We don't have to hide here."

"Yes, we do," she said, whirling at him. "This is a dangerous game to play, Anakin. Don't you feel a little unnerved at what they are asking of us?"

He studied her for a moment, carefully considering her unpredictable state, before she felt the gentle caress of his mind against hers. He was asking for permission to understand her uncharacteristic anger. Not trusting herself not to break, she let him look.

Anakin's eyes never left hers as he read the deep-seated fear this charade might expose them. What if Obi-Wan could sense the genuine love they were supposed to display so openly? What if she made a mistake because she lost herself play-acting in this dream of a honeymoon that they would never really have? The lies and the deceit mixing intimately with such scandalous truths and actual emotion. It terrified her.

Her vision blurred as he withdrew.

"Oh angel," Anakin said, his voice soft with sympathy. "I won't let them see through you. Or us."

He stepped forward, trying to wrap her in his arms, but Padmé backed away. If he so much as touched her, she would lose the tenuous grasp she had on her feelings. She didn't want to lose that battle.

"It'll be like hiding in plain sight, Anakin," she whispered. "Doesn't that frighten you?"

"No," he said.

His answer surprised her. Her eyes flew up to meet his, her face bewildered.

"What frightens me is when I'm deployed and unable to reach out to you for months on end," Anakin said, taking slow steps towards her. "What frightens me is when I feel your sadness and pain and can't be there to console you."

He was close enough to touch her again.

"Loving you, even out in the open, can never frighten me."

"Anakin…" Padmé said, overcome by the sheer force of his love he poured into their bond.

"It'll be all right, love," he said, reaching out for her again.

Padmé let him fold her into his arm, his fingers brushing a stray lock of her behind her ear.

"Stop that," she whispered, struggling to beat back the sudden burst of desire that flooded through her. She suspected her husband wasn't playing fair in an attempt to coerce her into a happier mood.

"Stop what?" Anakin said, pulling his fingers through her curly hair, disentangling her single braid.

"Your hands are dirty," she said, now smiling. She swiped at the grease mark under his right eye with her thumb.

"Now yours are dirty too. Are you afraid of a little dirt, Senator?"

"No."

His hand left her hair, his fingers sneaking beneath the lavender strap over her right shoulder. Padmé shuddered as she leaned back, her right hand finding the portside control panel for support. Still, Anakin kept coming.

"You're trembling," he whispered in her ear.

"You're a scoundrel," she replied. Anakin's lips traced her jaw before stopping to hover over her own.

"There aren't enough scoundrels in your life, Mrs. Skywalker."

He closed the gap before she could reply. Their kiss started out gentle and sweet, though when Anakin slipped a hand around her waist, pulling them closer while pressing her back against the control console, the heat escalated quickly. Padmé's weight activated a series of controls, the corresponding sequence of beeps making them jump apart.

"Maybe not here," Padmé laughed.

"But somewhere…" Anakin said, scooping her up into his arms.

"Somewhere wise, Anakin," she said, giving him a pointed look when he began heading for the boarding ramp.

"As you wish, Milady."

Anakin about-faced towards the star skiff's master bedroom, managing only to take three reserved strides before breaking into a sprint, Padmé giggling the whole way.

* * *

 **Hyperspace  
** **The Resolute  
** **Stateroom 702  
** **202906**

Once the contingent had dispersed for the afternoon, Bail found himself trying but failing to focus on the datapads strewn about his temporary work station. Everytime he tried to read, the words had blurred and Bail was left seeing the worry on Obi-Wan's face and the fury on Padmé's. What had the two been so vehemently discussing to leave such tension on the air? What had two of his allies so at odds?

A name flew instantly to mind but Bail was quick to temper his instinctive thoughts and ponder the validity of the evidence. He wasn't head of the Republic's Intelligence Committee for nothing.

Bail poured himself two fingers of Corellian fire-whiskey and leaned back into his chair to think. How was Anakin Skywalker the common denominator in this little equation?

It was obvious to anyone with a pair of working eyes that Anakin and Padmé had a more than cordial relationship, but one could hardly expect a friendship not to form after the trials the two had experienced together. Surely, Kenobi knew better than anyone how deeply connections of that nature were forged during the stress of battle. All three of them were undoubtedly closer after sharing their experiences at Geonosis.

Bail hadn't known Obi-Wan as well back then, but he remembered the Jedi Master's concerns over his Padawan's immediate assignment to escort the Senator back to Naboo. At the time, he had attributed it to worry over his Padawan's grave injury. Or had he misread that moment too?

His face etched in concentration, Bail opened his computer terminal and began a search cross-referencing variations of Padmé's and Anakin's name in the encrypted database.

He perused the numerous reports from his intelligence database detailing their ongoing professional encounters. Most of the stories only mentioned the two in passing, citing her name as an attendee of a security meeting or noting his contributions to a congruent war effort. It wasn't until he scrolled to the reports on the well-known pursuit of the _Malevolence_ that Bail started to notice an alarming trend.

Clicking open the document, he scanned until he found both names highlighted in the same sentence.

" **Senator Amidala's starship had been detected by the** _ **Malevolence**_ **crew and was drawn inside via tractor beam, though she demanded General Skywalker continue his assault. General Skywalker refused and ordered an immediate cease-fire on the** _ **Malevolence**_ **. He re-deployed himself on a rescue mission to save the Senator from a potential hostage situation, despite overwhelming support against him."**

Bail pulled at his goatee, scrolling to the end of the report. Skywalker had been admonished for jeopardizing a crucial blow to the Separatists to save one person. In the end, Palpatine had intervened on the Jedi's behalf, claiming the loss of Senator Amidala to be just as crucial a blow to the Republic. Immediately after, Bail remembered that Padmé had requested a seat on the Security Committee, one of the three committees that Bail shared with her. How she had studied those deployment rosters with such zeal!

Images of the young man's unguarded emotion after the lightsaber spar suddenly popped into his mind, along with Padmé's momentary look of panic during this afternoon's discussion.

Could his suspicions during the Chandrila bioweapon crisis actually be right? Padmé had been so terrified during the whole Lanteeb ordeal. Did her concern for Skywalker run so deep that she actually had voted against her political platform for him?

Well, Bail thought, throwing back the last of his drink. Only one way to find out.

He tried to access the records himself but when he was denied, he opened a secure communications channel to Coruscant. His faithful assistant, Minala, answered despite the hail at the late hour.

"Senator! Is everything all right?"

"Yes, yes, Minala," Bail said, "I'm so sorry for what I'm about to request. I know it's late…"

"Nonsense, that's what you pay me for. What do you need?"

"I need you to pull all property records concerning Senator Amidala," he said. "With an untraceable search origin."

Minala studied her employer for a second, and nodded her assent. Recognizing the unorthodox request and the need for discretion, she began typing commands into a portal outside the hologram's view. Bail sighed a low breath of relief, thanking the gods for the millionth time that he had had the foresight to hire an assistant as sharp as Minala.

"The initial results are in the low thousands, Senator," Minala said. "Most of these are articles describing donations Senator Amidala made to local charities and reconstruction efforts on her homeworld. Would you like me to refine the search terms?"

Bail frowned, thinking how to best weed out what he was looking for.

"Search titles, purchases, and orders only," he said.

Minala clicked away at her absent keyboard and then sat back.

"Six records, sir," she said. "Would you like me to patch them through to you?"

"Yes, please, Minala. Thank you so much. That will be all."

"You're most welcome, Senator. Have a good night."

His datapad refreshed only moments after his assistant had signed out of their secure channel.

Bail opened the newly downloaded documents immediately.

Titles opened for a lake retreat on Naboo, a penthouse apartment on Coruscant, a star skiff with a different registration number than the one in the hangar below, and two droids. None of these surprised Bail in the least.

The last item was an outstanding order, highlighted in red text signaling its pending purchase, for an Eta-2 Actis-class interceptor. Bail studied the schematic of the ship, instantly recognizing it as one of the latest upgrades to the GAR starfighter fleet.

Feeling his stomach plummet, Bail opened the appropriations bill from the last Senate session in a new tab. He paused and re-read the text beneath the description of the interceptor outlined in the bill.

 _Eta-2 Actis-class Interceptor_ \- _Increased handling and speed capabilities. Hyperspace ring attachment compatible. Advanced weaponry including twin ion cannons, proton torpedoes, and doubled deflector shields. Astromech ready. Intended for Jedi pilots only._

Bail tossed the datapad back on his desk and rubbed at his throbbing temples. The final sentence of the starfighter's description whirled round and round in his head.

Intended for Jedi pilots only.

"Oh Padmé, what are you thinking?" he whispered.

* * *

 **Spira  
** **Hideaway Bay Resort and Spa, West  
** **Hut 138  
** **062600**

Baena finished tucking the comforter into place over the king-size bed and stood back to admire her handiwork. The suite was almost ready for its patrons, though she had one task left to perform.

Fishing out the bag from her apron pocket, she opened it carefully to avoid dropping its delicate contents. On the surface, the round clear devices almost resembled a button without holes. It was incredible, she thought, that the Naboo were so gifted at creating such discreet security equipment for its people. Not like this ugly roving cameras that watched the halls of her small apartment complex.

Baena began positioning the small devices around near the power terminals dispersed throughout the room. She tucked them behind furniture as close to the power sources as the man had instructed. When she had placed the last one, tucking it behind one of the nightstands, Baena felt a little thrill run through her.

It wasn't often she got to help security for the privileged. She was honored the Naboo Royal Security guard had trusted her to such a monumental task with protecting the beloved Senator.

She tapped her comm to activate and tuned to the appropriate frequency.

"All devices are in place, Captain Wyatt," she said.

"Very good, Baena," the reply came. "I'm going to activate them now and run a test. When I do, please check to see that a red beam passes from each device in linear fashion around the room perimeter. It is essential we don't miss one corner, understood?"

"Understood, sir."

"Running test sequence now."

Baena watched a thin laser trace along the walls of the suite. She followed the loop once, making sure the line was continuous and flush with the walls.

"All clear, Captain."

"Thank you, Baena. The Senator is most grateful for your discretion and your service."

"It was my honor, sir," she said.

Packing her cart with its cleaning supplies, Baena left Hut 138 with a smile on her face. She hoped Senator Amidala would enjoy her stay.

As she wended her way down the trail towards her next task, Baena failed to notice the human male peering out from the Glorian bushes across the path.

Zed Wyatt smiled as he terminated the test and activated stand-by mode.

The background buzz from his recording device faded to silence.

 _~Fin_


	4. Chapter 4

_A/N: So sorry about the little wait between updates. I haven't had the luxury of time to myself this past week. Here's hoping most of you are still hanging around to read this next little bit. :P As always, reviews are greatly appreciated!_

* * *

 **Hyperspace  
** **J-type Nubian Star Skiff  
** **Hangar 15B, The Resolute  
** **130000**

"Final flight checks complete," Anakin said. "How's that nav computing coming?"

His former Master toggled the screens on the co-pilot side of the command console until the hyperdrive calculations appeared.

"Eighty-eight percent and climbing," Obi-Wan responded.

"Then let's get this party started, shall we?"

Anakin thumbed the star skiff's intercom.

"Senators, please be seated for imminent departure." He glanced over his shoulder towards the Tholothian standing in the cockpit entryway. "You too, Master."

"If you don't take this ship out like a Pod, she shouldn't have to, Anakin," Obi-Wan warned, though there was a slight edge to his voice that gave Anakin a moment of pause.

"There's no fun in that," Anakin grouched. He powered up the engines to standby, his hands buzzing with the content purr of the revamping they had received yesterday. Anakin had to work to contain the bolt of excitement that shot through him. In his mind's eye, he could see his wife's warning but wry smile.

"All right, all right," he said, more to her than Obi-Wan. His gloved hand reached to open a channel to hail _The Resolute_.

" _Resolute,_ this is General Skywalker aboard the _Nebula Sunrise_. All flight checks and plans are complete…"

"Or about complete…" Obi-Wan scoffed at the white lie. "Always on the move."

Anakin's grin widened, though his tone remained professional and commanding.

"Requesting clearance from Hangar 15B at your leisure. All troops clear from the bay."

" _Copy that, General Skywalker. Dropping hangar shields in five. You may proceed to depart using trajectory course Delta-Echo-5476. It's been a pleasure, sir."_

"Thank you, Admiral. Skywalker out."

As the comm channel closed, Anakin eased the magnificent starship out of stand-by and began retracting the tri-pod landing gear. A quick few taps of the primary pilot console and Anakin had coasted the ship out of the hangar. Quickly, he fired the sub-light engines cutting through space on the set course to steer them clear of the _Resolute._

"Was that easy enough for you, Master?" Anakin asked, trying to contain the twitch in his fingers to snap the ship into a barrel roll in front of the _Resolute_ 's bridge. Undoubtedly, the clones would find the humor in his mock salute, though he couldn't say the same for his traveling companions.

"Your restraint is commendable," Obi-Wan replied, then added in a much lower tone, "Though I'll be more at ease when we're safely in hyperspace."

A soft chime signaled the navigation computer had finished calculating hyperspace coordinates for the three-hour trip to Spira.

"I'll let the Senators know we're ready to jump," Master Gallia said.

Having completely forgotten about Master Gallia, Anakin turned to see her eyes dart amused between her two comrades, and he felt a flash of embarrassment at having let his guard down around the reserved Master. Just as quickly as it came, the emotion was gone, as was Master Gallia from the cockpit.

A silence fell over the two Jedi, comfortable and yet, Anakin felt a slight urgency zipping between them. It was almost there was something Obi-Wan wanted to say, but wasn't sure how best to approach the subject. As Anakin piloted the star skiff to the origin of their hyperspace flight path, he tried to be patient and let Obi-Wan break the still of the cockpit. Eventually, as it had done many times before, Anakin's patience dried up.

"What is it?"

Obi-Wan turned his chair, his brow pinching together in concentration, and faced his former apprentice.

"I'm truly sorry for the situation you and Padmé have been put in," Obi-Wan said.

Suddenly all the jumbled energy in their bond made sense to Anakin. Of course Obi-Wan would have ongoing concerns about this, Anakin thought. He knew has Master had been leary of letting him escort Padmé back to Naboo, and had been just as suspicious when he returned fully centered and lighter in the Force than when he departed. Anakin had to work hard to control his expression when the memory of that beautiful evening resurfaced, clamping down on the wave of emotions that threatened to rise with it.

"I understand how incredibly difficult this must be for the two of you," Obi-Wan was saying.

"It isn't without its difficulties," Anakin said, feeling the truth was actually his ally. If Obi-Wan wanted honest, he was about to get pretty close to it. Hiding in plain sight, just as Padmé had said. "But I think she and I came to a satisfactory and mutual agreement on how to handle our past with the present. Really, Obi-Wan, everything's fine."

Obi-Wan studied Anakin and while he didn't appear entirely convinced, he knew well enough when not to push.

"Well, whatever you discussed changed her mood completely," Obi-Wan said. "I thought I was going to be the first Jedi Master to be assassinated by a Senator's glare. Those looks that woman can give are lethal."

And don't I know it, Anakin thought to himself.

"Actually, I didn't discuss anything with her."

Obi-Wan's brow furrowed in puzzlement.

"You see that's your fatal flaw when dealing with politicians, Master," Anakin continued. "Discussion is their arena. But throw in a little charm, and they come apart at the seams."

Anakin grinned knowingly, and Obi-Wan shook his head in mock annoyance, catching on to the ruse.

"So you charmed her into a better mood, is that it?" Obi-Wan said.

Well that's one way to put it, Anakin thought. Instead he said, "You should try it next time. A little bit of charm goes a long way."

Master Gallia's voice broke in over his personal comlink.

"We're all set down here, Anakin."

Anakin fixed Obi-Wan with a wry smile. "Let this be your first lesson, Obi-Wan." He reached for the intercom.

"Honorable representatives of the Republic, this is your faithful Captain Skywalker speaking. We are prepared to make the jump to hyperspace, so if you'll please find your seats, we'll be on our way to Spira momentarily. If at any time, you find yourself in need of refreshments or a friendly chat during this flight, my co-captain Kenobi will be happy to oblige. Welcome aboard."

As Anakin punched the hyperdrive and the ship's engines climbed to maximum power, Obi-Wan shook his head in mock aggravation.

"Charm indeed," he chuckled.

* * *

 **Hyperspace  
** **The Nebula Sunrise  
** **Main Common Room  
** **153043**

Bail hid his face in his hands and sighed heavily.

"What about re-structuring trade route taxation to a fixed rate?" Senator Eekway asked. The youngest of the five, she was determined to fight the dwindling resolve around the table by injecting her own youthful enthusiasm until there was nothing left.

"While sound in theory, one fixed rate would never level the playing field against the Trade Federation or Commerce Guild," Mon Mothma replied. "Set the tax too low and we can't effectively regulate the larger players. Set it too high, well…"

"Then we are dealing with another Naboo," Padmé said. She sighed, mirroring Bail's own fatigue.

A pensive hush fell over the group. Bail wasn't sure how much longer he or any of his colleagues could take of this pointless conjecture. Sure, he agreed with brainstorming some kind of strategy for the upcoming meeting, but in order to negotiate, the other party needed to present a framework to negotiate in.

"Either way, some form of taxation has to remain," Senator Zar concluded.

"Agreed," Mothma said. "We're going to need the extra money even more now that the war budget has been augmented."

Bail felt several pairs of reproachful eyes glance quickly to the Senator on his right.

"I'm not going to apologize for my stance on the appropriations bill," Padmé said, pinching the bridge of her nose against some unseen headache.

"How can you call yourself a pacifist and then push for such a budget increase?" Senator Zar asked, his fist pounding the table once in frustration.

"Being a Loyalist does not intrinsically make one a pacifist. I'm not blind to the needs of the Jedi," Padmé snapped, defensively, then added, almost as an afterthought. "Or our troops."

Two days ago, her rationale would have shocked Bail. After his search yesterday with Minala, he only felt pangs of empathy and worry for his longtime friend.

"It's just not like you, Padmé," Mon said, her expression soft and warm.

Padmé started to speak, but Bail decided his own opinion may be of more help.

"Senators, please," he said, trying for civility as passions rose. "This squabbling is exactly one of the reasons the Separatists love to cite in their argument of our failing democracy." He gestured to Padmé. "After reviewing the latest warfront updates and reports, I tend to find myself agreeing with Senator Amidala's position. This war cannot certainly be ended, much less won, if we hamstring our forces with outdated equipment and lackluster funding."

Again disquiet settled across the room, though not for long as Master Gallia poked her head into the room.

"Senator Amidala, we are approaching our arrival vector to Spira."

"Very well," Padmé said, rising.

Bail did not miss the puzzled glance she threw his direction as she left.

* * *

Pausing around the corner, Padmé closed her eyes and slowly massaged her temples. Her head pounded from the past hour of strategizing, if one could even call it that. She knew that sooner or later she would have to face the repercussions of her most unorthodox vote, but she had hoped she would have been afforded a little more time. At least Bail seems to have had a change of heart, she thought, bemused.

"Are you all right, Senator?"

Padmé dropped her hands and suppressed the urge to sigh loudly.

"Yes, Master Gallia," she said quickly, smoothing her features into a more pleasant expression. "Only feeling a little hen-pecked."

The Jedi Master smiled warmly at her, a look of sympathy in her brown eyes. "I often feel the same after some our Council meetings." Reaching out, she gently squeezed Padmé's shoulder. "Don't fret, Senator. The Jedi are most humbled for your ongoing support."

Padmé could only return her smile, albeit a little unnerved that Adi Gallia was aware of her vehement championing in favor of the Jedi. If Master Gallia felt her unease, she didn't show it.

"Would you like me to escort you?"

"Oh, no thank you," Padmé said, blinking and shaking her head. "I know my way very well around this ship."

"As you wish, Senator."

Adi bowed politely, and then turned leaving Padmé alone.

Almost immediately, the pounding in her head returned. Groaning softly, she did the only thing she knew would ease her pain. She set off to find Anakin. Her feet navigated the few twists and turns with practiced ease, and for once, Padmé wished she were aboard a cruiser that she wasn't so intimately familiar with. Her attentions would be forced on finding her destination, and not contemplating her colleague from Alderaan. Only two days ago, she had practically cowered from his fury radiating at her from across the Senate chamber. And now, he was defending her stance? Padmé felt something nasty turn in her stomach.

Halfway into the cockpit, Padmé stopped mid-stride her mouth agape, all troubling thoughts of politics dissolving when her eyes found her husband.

"I know," Anakin said sullenly. "I look ridiculous."

Slowly, she approached her husband until she stood before him, still at a loss for words. Gone were his Jedi robes, replaced for a casual Naboo outfit, and his light sun-streaked blond hair, now dyed a deep midnight brown. It made his eyes a brilliant blue, like echoes of the swirling hyperspace backlighting him through the forward viewports. Turning to ensure she was indeed alone, Padmé ran her fingers through its moderate length and marveled at the sudden warmth in her belly.

"I think it suits you," she said.

Anakin's eyes darkened at her breathy tone.

"It does?" he encouraged, pulling her to stand between his legs.

Padmé nodded down at him, a faint smile on her lips.

"I think it makes you look dangerous," she whispered.

He narrowed his eyes at her, trying to gauge her sincerity.

"Well I will be dangerous if it doesn't wash out."

Laughing lightly, Padmé stood up straight, her hand ruffling his hair affectionately. "I'll help you get it out."

As the nav computer signaled to revert to sublight engines, Anakin smirked at her while she found her seat in the co-pilot's chair.

"Oh I imagine you will," he said.

Padmé smirked right back at him, though she wasn't entirely sure that the sudden plummeting sensation she felt was entirely attributable to the drop from hyperspace.

Just off the starboard side, Spira sat before them, a blue and white orb floating in dense black. As Anakin steered the starship toward the planet, she began to make out the individual swirls of the clouds in the planet's atmosphere. Small patches of green started to segregate themselves from the wide swaths of blue.

A soft chime interrupted the stillness of the cockpit, the transmission beacon pulsing a muted red light.

"Ready?" Anakin asked, his tone more serious now.

Padmé inhaled once deeply, and then blew out her breath in a rush.

"Ready."

Anakin received the incoming hail with the flick of a switch. A figure of a humanoid female appeared on the holopad.

" _Civilian cruiser Registration Eight-four-one-one-three-eight-seven-dash-six. Please identify all passengers onboard and state reason for travel."_

Controlling her urge to wince, Padmé squared her shoulders. _Sorry, Sis._

"This is Sola Janren accompanied by Darred Janren, with intent to vacation at Hideaway Bay," Padmé said, nodding to Anakin who forwarded the customs port their travel documents. "Landing permits transmitting now."

There was a moment of silence, one that made Padmé's heart flutter nervously. Anakin's mind gently touched hers with calming thoughts.

" _Sola Janren,"_ the customs agent said. She looked at something in her hand and scrutinized Padmé momentarily, before turning and addressing Anakin. " _Darred Janren."_ She considered Anakin a little longer than Padmé felt was necessary, and for a second, her heart dropped into her stomach.

Anakin shifted in his seat, turning his body slightly away to hide the scar of his right eye. She watched him flash the agent his most winning smile. The agent suddenly ducked her gaze, fumbling with some documents out of the holotransmitter's range.

" _Your landing permits have been verified,"_ she said, finding her professionalism again. _"Please disengage your autopilot and prepare for final approach vectors and landing coordinates. You may proceed on the authorized course and only the authorized course. No boarding is necessary at this time. Welcome to Spira, Mr. and Mrs. Janren."_

"Thank you," Padmé said quietly.

Anakin closed the channel.

"Your nerves are like Tatooine jumping beans," he said, teasing. "You were starting to make me nervous."

Her returning frown made it evident that Padmé did not find his humor amusing.

"I don't like how long she took verifying our identities," Padmé snapped, her anxiety making her irritable. "We were close to being recognized."

"Hey," Anakin said, reaching over to lightly grasp her arm. "No one recognized us. In fact, that was way easier than I had anticipated. If she had asked for our reservations, that would have been a little more difficult to explain," he acknowledged, raising a hand when Padmé started to respond. "But she didn't and look, here are the landing instructions right now."

A long string of coordinates flashed across the navigation computer's interface. Anakin quickly queued them into the starship's autopilot and re-engaged the system. He came round to face her, pulling her to her feet.

"Everything's going to be all right."

Padmé resisted his embrace for only a moment, before allowing herself to be wrapped in his strong arms. She inhaled deeply, her nose filling with his comforting scent. Her muscles practically uncoiled on their own volition.

"I know," she whispered. "I just have a bad feeling about this."

* * *

 **Spira  
** **Hideaway Bay Resort & Spa  
** **Main Entrance Lobby, Palm Grotto  
** **174722**

Zed's comm buzzed in his pocket, making him jump at the sudden intrusion in his train of thought.

"What?" he growled.

"Mr. Wyatt?" a distinctly feminine voice asked.

"Yes, this is he. What?"

"Sir, I have some good news."

"And?"

"Did you transfer the credits we discussed?"

Zed rolled his eyes and tapped a few quick strokes on his datapad. A bank transfer statement opened with a flashing prompt:

 **CONFIRM**

He hesitated before entering the affirmative. This agent had nothing to gain by stringing him along, he decided. Zed had promised her payment, either way.

"They should be hitting your account as we speak. What's the news?"

There was a moment of pause in the conversation, though he thought he could hear keystrokes in the faint background buzz. He didn't have to wonder what she was doing. He would have verified the transaction before spilling the goods himself. Too bad, she was a customs agent, because she could make one hell of a journalist.

"Senator Amidala has just passed through customs," the voice said, her tone much more pleasant no doubt after seeing the small sum in her name.

"And her companion?" he pressed.

"Also traveling under a false identity," she said. "Male human, I'd guess early to mid-twenties, dark hair, light eyes. He looked vaguely familiar…"

"How so?" Zed prompted. If he wasn't holed up outside the lobby of Hideaway Bay under a Spiran parlor palm, he would have been on the edge of his seat.

"He reminded me of someone. I'm sorry, I can't think of who."

Zed sighed, frustrated. Well at least, he had confirmation of a male companion and the Senator herself. That piece of information alone while not career-changing was definitely worth a few credits to some of the tabloids. _Not so much a spinster as we all may have thought, Senator_. He allowed himself that small victory.

"Very well. Remember, not a word of this to anyone."

He heard her scoff.

"As if I could tell and keep my job. Some of us don't like planet-hopping."

The comm signed off, but Zed's feelings were not the least bit hurt. He'd been called much worse.

Brushing the dirt off his hands, he lifted his binoculars to recalibrate the distance from his hideout to main desk. Several native Spirans milled about, steadily focused on their work. Once set, he let himself smile, his mind already entertaining a multitude of possibilities.

"Senator Amidala sneaking all around," he hummed to himself. "Who for a lover have you found?"

 _~Fin_


	5. Chapter 5

_A/N: Squee! Oh you guys make me so happy with all your kind words. I am so excited to post this chapter! No spoilers, I promise, but the plot thickens dun dun duhhhh! LOL Ok, so no more melodrama. Seriously though, you are all too kind! This next part may stretch the T rating a titch. Hopefully nothing too offensive, I do sort of let the assumptions roll along for themselves. If any of you feel the rating needs to be raised, just PM me and I'll be glad to do it. Let me know what you think of this latest installment!_

* * *

 **Spira  
** **Ataria Island  
** **En route to Hideaway Bay  
** **181305**

Hideaway Bay was located on one of Spira's most popular atolls, Ataria Island. The land mass rose from the turquoise ocean like a whaladon coming to float on the water's surface, its body curled almost head to tail. The southern half of the island dropped off to the waters in staggering white cliffs, while the northern side sloped gradually into sprawling beaches laden with resorts and small bays peppered with bobbing water vessels of various colors. It reminded Anakin of a wilder version of Naboo.

"Look at the water!" Padmé exclaimed. She had moved to hover over his right shoulder, as the ship piloted itself east sweeping wide around the southern cliffs. "I've never seen water so blue!"

Anakin nodded in agreement, though his own enthusiasm for the endless cerulean was marked by a feeling of dread. One he couldn't shake. One that made the hairs on his arms raise in warning. He sunk into the Force, searching for a thread to follow.

Spira's Force signature was a tangle of life, a web of variety and all that that entailed. The majority was light and refreshing, the veritable strands of the native flora and fauna intermingling with the joys of Spira's visiting patrons and more permanent residents. The part that felt similar to Naboo. But a darker presence also permeated the signature, and somehow, Anakin knew the warning was not a cautionary tale of the more dangerous plants and animals. This warning tasted conspicuous and yet slippery.

Alas, the thread was not to be found.

Padmé's body pressed closer to his, her warmth drowning out the cold twist of worry in his chest. "Look," she gasped again, "there it is!"

Anakin's eyes followed her outstretched arm to find Hideaway Bay pulling into view. Its crisp white buildings of stucco and vibrant blue roofing were thrown into sharp relief against the surrounding green tropical jungle. The main lobby was a large one-story structure, flanked by smaller versions spreading out in a horseshoe pattern until the last of the suites sat perched on the edges of the beach. In the center of the semi-circle, Anakin could see depressions in the foliage. As they drew closer, he caught glimpses of a waterfall tumbling into a lagoon.

"It's gorgeous," she breathed.

Anakin wanted to tell her that she was gorgeous, but wisely held his tongue when he sensed a presence had joined them.

Obi-Wan cleared his throat, making Padmé scamper back to a more appropriate distance. His former Master's eyes watched the movement without passing outward judgment. Then he looked at Anakin with a silent hard message. Anakin nodded imperceptibly, feeling at once relieved and unsettled that Obi-Wan had felt that slippery warning too.

But what did it mean?

Now it was Obi-Wan's turn to shake his head. He gestured for Anakin to take control of the ship and approach with caution. It seemed the closer they got to the resort, the more that feeling of unease sent rippling tremors through the Force.

As Anakin set the ship down at the designated landing platform, Padmé excused herself to gather her belongings. With a touch of disappointment, Anakin watched her go. When she was out of earshot, he turned to Obi-Wan.

"It's like it's Neimoidian, but isn't," Anakin said, frowning.

"I agree," Obi-Wan said, stroking his beard. "What do you think, Master Gallia?"

Adi Gallia had joined them, her face also in deep concentration.

"It doesn't feel ominous," she said. "Perhaps, it's part of the planet's signature."

Although Obi-Wan tipped his head in considering acknowledgement, Anakin disagreed.

"Planets generally aren't shifty," he said. "People are."

Master Gallia's raised her eyebrows at his observation, pursing her lips. Anakin fought the urge to squirm under her thoughtful scrutiny. He couldn't tell whether she was testing his theory for herself, or judging him for it.

"Tangible yet slippery," Obi-Wan sighed, ever the diplomat. "Similar to the blur of the dark side."

Master Gallia nodded an affirmative, a fact not lost on Anakin. This time he didn't attempt to hide a scowl.

"We must continue with caution," she said. "Anakin, set the ship down and run a sweep of the platform before we have everyone disembark. Hopefully, we aren't flying into a trap."

"Yes, Master," he complied, though his stomach churned almost to the point of nausea.

Something just didn't seem right.

* * *

 **Spira  
** **Hideaway Bay Resort and Spa  
** **Landing Platform AE  
** **182525**

Bail studied Obi-Wan's face as the small group of Senators and two Jedi Masters waited while Anakin ran a security sweep. His friend's face was unreadable. Though that doesn't come as a surprise, he thought. Obi-Wan Kenobi was not named the Negotiator for nothing. He always kept his cards close to his chest.

None of the Jedi would say why they were suddenly on edge, but the anxiety was palpable in the quiet of the lower level corridor. Mon Mothma's jaw was set square, her shoulders rigid while they waited. Eekway wasn't even hiding her attempt to discern the placid expressions on their Jedi companions. Somehow, Fang Zar managed to look bored. And Padmé alternated between pacing a few steps to subtly worrying her thumbnail with her teeth.

Bail almost wanted to reach a hand out to her shoulder to still her nervous movements, but then loud boots clomped their way up the ramp and Anakin appeared. The young Jedi Knight's expression was thunderous.

"Well, whoever picked this landing deck surely didn't think things through," Anakin growled.

"Why do you say that?" Obi-Wan asked, dropping his folded hands to his hips.

"We are literally a Manaanian skipping stone from the Separatist's platform," Anakin explained. "And there's a welcoming party."

"A welcoming party?" Master Gallia asked, frowning.

"That Neimodian slimeball has apparently arrived with perfect timing."

Padmé's face blanched a little at this news.

"Did he say anything?" Bail asked.

"No," Anakin responded. "He was too busy ordering around his minions while they unloaded."

"We can always wait until he leaves," Eekway suggested.

A chorus of resounding "No" echoed from a majority of the gathering. The Senator from Wroona looked chagrined.

"Besides," Padmé said, "they've already seen our ship."

"Agreed," Mothma chimed in. "We should disembark and if any contact occurs, we should remain cordial. This is a peace-seeking mission after all."

"Let us take the lead, Senators," Obi-Wan said. "And try to stay close, just in case."

The group began to gather their belongings and started down the ramp. As Bail slid past Anakin, he overheard the young man's soft instructions to his colleague from Naboo.

"I don't like this," Anakin was saying. "Stay right behind me."

Bail was too far away to hear her reply. He descended the ramp, finding himself flanking Obi-Wan's right side and Mon Mothma's left. The Chandrilan Senator placed her luggage at her feet, when the small delegation paused at the sight of one of the Separatist leaders. Anakin with his dark hair and even darker mood made an appearance on the other side of Obi-Wan, Padmé dutifully following behind.

By this time, Nute Gunray had turned to watch the activity on the landing platform across from his ship with mild interest. Edging closer to no doubt allow his bulbous insect-like eyes to adjust in the setting sun's brilliant light, he seemed almost within reach, the platforms were so close. Nobody spoke. For a moment, no one breathed.

The unmistakable roll of metal on metal rumbled somewhere inside Gunray's ship. Before they had even appeared, Anakin's lightsaber erupted into the air, its bright blue blade a stark contrast to the subdued foliage and dull permacrete. Then five droidekas sprang to attention just behind their master, and Bail was suddenly grateful for the hum of the Jedi's weapon.

"Their shields are not up and they are not in attack formation," Obi-Wan said quietly to his former apprentice.

"Droidekas are always in attack formation," Anakin snarled. Then he yelled across the short distance to the other platform. "Droidekas were not part of the agreement, Gunray!"

The Neimoidian's third eyelids flicked over his large bulbous red eyes.

"They are not coming to the negotiations tomorrow, I assure you," he said. "They are only here to ensure my personal safety. No doubt you can understand my concerns as you point that lightsaber at me."

Bail thought he could hear Anakin's teeth grind, and definitely heard Obi-Wan's warning rebuke, though the Jedi muttered it quietly.

"Anakin, put out your weapon."

The young Jedi didn't comply right away, only powering down his lightsaber with some reluctance when Padmé laid a gentle hand on his shoulder.

"We apologize, Viceroy," Kenobi said, pasting a pleasant expression on his face. "You are correct. Our agreement did not limit your own personal guard. Please excuse the misunderstanding."

Clearly more at ease with the weapon contained, Gunray waved a dismissive gesture with his gnarly twisted hand.

"It is no matter," he said. "The droidekas will not be in attendance tomorrow."

Obi-Wan smiled wanly, though his voice remained pleasant.

"Then we shall see you bright and early."

The Neimoidian gave a stiff half-bow and turned to bark more commands at his entourage.

Bail didn't miss the look of fury with which Anakin watched them leave.

As their own little group began making their way towards the main lobby for check-in, he tried to dispel Anakin's anger.

"For what it's worth," Bail said, keeping his voice low so Obi-Wan wouldn't overhear. He was sure his own sentiments would displease his other Jedi friend. "I don't trust that scum anymore than you. I'm glad you are here, Anakin."

Anakin looked mildly surprised.

"Thank you, Senator," he said. "Your confidence humbles me."

Bail raised an eyebrow and laughed, shocking Anakin and himself when he clapped the younger man on the back.

"No, it doesn't," he said lightly. "I like that about you."

Anakin considered Bail. He could see the uncertainty in the Jedi's face, before he broke into a grin himself.

"I like that about you too, Senator."

* * *

 **Spira  
** **Hideaway Bay Resort and Spa  
** **Main Lobby  
** **184520**

What's taking them so long?

Zed attempted to stretch his legs out for what seemed like the fifth time that hour. He had been waiting hidden in the small palm grotto for forever. His lower back ached from sitting hunched over, and the moist soil beneath his butt had soaked into his lightweight pants. On top of it all, he was in dire need of a visit to the nearest refresher.

Taking the scenic route, my dear?

Zed let his mind wander, voyeuristically enjoying the vision of what exactly Senator Amidala and her dark-haired companion were doing several miles above the clouds. If only he got lucky enough to catch some of those compromising positions on holocam! Zed thanked his lucky stars that whomever had accidentally - or purposefully – forwarded those reservations had chosen his account to be the recipient.

Trying to take his mind off his protesting bladder, Zed ran through a mental list of high-profile names, gauging the scandal each one afforded this burgeoning story.

One kept springing to mind, though his mouth twisted into a scowl at the thought. He would be sorely disappointed if Senator Amidala had re-kindled her lackluster relationship with Clovis. About the most scandal worthy photo ever captured of those two had been when they had clinked glasses on a dinner date at the Skysitter, and wasn't exactly entertainment journalism fodder.

No, Zed thought. If it was Clovis, there would not have been a need for such a secret rendezvous.

Voices in the main lobby's atrium brought the binoculars quickly to his eyes. Soon, a party of eight walked into the lobby, and it didn't take long to realize Zed that he was witnessing something much more clandestine than a private honeymoon.

He immediately recognized Senators Mothma, Zar, Organa, and Amidala. The blue-faced humanoid gave him pause, though he did know he had seen her in close association with the Loyalist party. Nothing a little quick research wouldn't turn up.

His pulse quickened when he caught site of Jedi High Master Obi-Wan Kenobi. Surely something of importance was going on if one of the most esteemed Grand Army's Generals was in attendance. Not to mention his companions, another High Master though less high-profile in Master Adi Gallia and the dark-haired tall young man. Despite the civilian clothes he wore, the young man carried himself with the authority and command of the Jedi. Not to mention his lightsaber securely attached to his hip was a dead give-away.

Zed adjusted his view on the dark-haired Jedi Knight, who had separated himself to the back of the pack as the Senators began the tedious task of check-in. His youthful face was stormy, almost sullen, an emotional display that Zed felt he had seen before. But on whom? His mind brought up the image of the Hero-With-No-Fear, but Zed quickly dismissed that notion. Only to undismiss the dismissal when the young man turned and Zed caught the unmistakable linear scar tracking over the young man's right eye.

That was Anakin Skywalker!

What in the galaxy would have five members of the Senate and three well-known Jedi on some sort of mission?

For a moment, Zed felt a flash of disappointment as the exposé on Senator Amidala's personal life seemed more of a cover for this unexpected group. Entertainment journalism always paid far more than another political article on the next daily HoloNet report. Most likely, this had to do with the war and would not even be publishable even if he did figure out what was taking place on Spira.

Stang!

Well, no use crying over spent credits, he thought. It was at least worth staying to see what the little delegation was doing so far from the Core Planets.

As Zed tried to console himself that he was still witnessing something fairly important, Senator Amidala nodded her thanks to the Spiran resort's receptionist and gathered her belongings to join General Skywalker at the back of the atrium. He watched as she smiled at something the Jedi Knight said and folded her arms across her chest. Zed was about to swing his binoculars back to the others in the party when he saw the Jedi reach out quickly and take something from the Senator from Naboo.

" _Male human, I'd guess early to mid-twenties, dark hair, light eyes. He looked vaguely familiar…"_

As he watched Skywalker tuck whatever he had retrieved into his pocket and resume his dutiful sentry pose, the customs agent's words sprang suddenly to mind. Senator Amidala pretended to absent-mindedly scruff at the tiled floor with her slippered toe. Neither of them said anything more.

He looked vaguely familiar, you fool, because he's one of the most well-known Jedi in the entire galaxy!

Zed's heart pounded in his chest as he slammed the replay button of the quick capture feature on his binoculars. He watched the transfer happen again and again, before he slowed the feed to crawl one frame at a time.

There!

A small white plastic card was held out in Senator Amidala's small hand, just for instant, and then it disappeared from view. Presumably into the Jedi's own hand and then pocket.

Feeling his previous excitement return full-blast, Zed plugged a small data reader into his binoculars and began transferring the short clip to review on his computer back at his hotel. He was fairly certain the Senator from Naboo had just handed off her room keycard to the Chosen One.

Grinning wickedly, Zed already began to let his imagination run wild with the implications.

* * *

 **Spira  
** **Hideaway Bay Resort and Spa  
** **Hut 138  
** **223000**

Anakin had tried to be patient. He really had.

He had spent his first hour walking the perimeter of the west resort, attempting to learn the best vantage points and general layout. The next he had tried meditate and better understand the slippery presence he had sensed during landing. It was still just as elusive as before, and Anakin found himself reaching out for Padmé to calm and center him whenever the frustrations became too great.

Unfortunately, her ethereal signature only awoke frustrations of a very different nature.

Despite Obi-Wan's very near and very awake Force presence, Anakin just had to get out of his isolation.

It didn't take Anakin long to reach Padmé's bungalow. In that first hour of his self-assigned mission, he had tracked down every possible route, obvious paths and off-trail short cuts alike, to his wife's temporary residence. He could see a faint glow reflecting off the smooth sandstones of her private patio as he approached though most of the alcove was hidden from view. Digging for the spare access card she had slipped to him earlier in the lobby, Anakin keyed his way into the suite.

With a soft hiss, the door slid away to reveal the kitchen and living room area. The Kessel wood floor was cool and springy beneath his feet. A glass table held a vase full of vibrantly colored flowers which smelled seductive and sweet the further in he walked. Two shallow stairs dropped him into the living room decorated with a white chaise lounge and sofa, an entertainment stand and coffee table designed to look like driftwood, and a large aqua blue rug. A narrow hall to the right led to the darkened master bedroom, though Anakin did not need the darkness to tell him where to go. He had honed in on the lone silhouette leaning against the patio wall.

Her brown curls were loose to dance on the gentle warm breezes blowing in off the ocean, her filmy nightgown catching enticingly around her slender form. She raised a stemless glass, and Anakin felt a flare jealousy at the orange-pink wine passing over her lips. He paused between the flung-wide living room doors, leaning against the frame and trying to commit every detail to memory. How the fire in the torches made her skin glow. How the moonlight sparkled in her hair. How she turned slowly, trying to hide her grin, when he used the Force to pull one shimmersilk strap off her shoulder.

"Anakin," she said lightly. "How many times do I have to tell you not to undress me with the Force?"

She smiled widely at his feigned innocent expression, laughing when he engulfed her in his arms.

"At least once more, Milady," he whispered, before capturing her mouth with his. She tasted of blesswine and something intrinsically Padmé, a combination that made his head spin and his blood race. The warm night air seemed to swelter as he deepened the kiss, pulling her closer to him. She shrieked, surprising them both, and Padmé pulled away, giggling as spilled wine ran down over her collar bone.

"Now, look what you've done," she teased. "What a waste."

Keeping his eyes on her, Anakin's tongue darted out to catch the drop of sweet liquid straining to dive below her gown's plunging neckline. He smiled against her skin, when her head fell back, a soft moan escaping her kiss-swollen lips. Tracing a trail all the way to the angle in her jaw, Anakin whispered in her ear, "It wasn't wasted at all."

Padmé turned her head to give him what she tried to make a petulant look, but her brown eyes were dark with desire, his name fanning gently across his cheek in such a soft intimate whisper that Anakin felt his blood burn in response.

His fingers snaked down behind her thighs as he drove her back, her own arms willingly wrapping around his neck to help him lift her onto the patio wall. When he tried to scoop her up to take matters somewhere more comfortable, Anakin was surprised when he met resistance. He stopped his onslaught of open mouth kisses down her neck, and studied his wife.

Padmé had misunderstood his intentions, because she ruffled his dark hair and smiled somewhat shyly up at him.

"Just once with the dark hair," she whispered. He could see the pink stain on her cheeks spread even beneath the dim lighting of the triple moons as she spoke. "Please?"

"As if I could ever deny you," he answered.

He kissed her then, until the stars above them were painted spots on the backs of their eyelids.

Padmé couldn't remember the last time she had felt so relaxed. As she worked shampoo gently into Anakin's hair, the bubble bath water surrounded them in comforting warmth, variegated white and red rose petals spinning and twisting as powerful jets massaged her tired body. He sighed in contentment when she doused his hair with warm water, rinsing away the last remaining dye. Wet and matted to his head, his hair still looked dark, but she could see the paler highlights returning if she looked closely.

"All done," she whispered into her husband's ear.

Anakin sat up, shaking out his mane and flinging water all over. Padmé scrunched her face as most of the water flew back into her eyes. Wiping stray drops from her eyes, Anakin smirked, saying "Sorry" though his own face looked anything but apologetic. He leaned back against the long sloping marble tub opposite her, his long legs stretching out on either side.

Reaching for her wine with her left, she slowly traced his kneecap with a soft finger, smiling coyly when his eyes darkened at her seductive touch.

"Haven't you had enough?" he asked.

Padmé pretended like he was referring to her drink, and quickly threw back the last gulp with a mischievous wink. "One is my limit," she said devilishly. She let him take her glass, and sunk back into the bubbles, her long hair fanning out around her, her eyes closing on their own accord when Anakin's thumbs worked the pads of her left foot. She hummed her appreciation when his capable fingers began the assault on her other foot.

"One is most definitely not your limit," Anakin said. He dropped her foot with an unceremonious splash and crawled his way up her to kiss the pout of her face.

Padmé smiled up at him. The warm Spiran air was already drying her husband's hair, bringing out the golden blonde. She stilled his seductive mouth with a wet finger.

"Anakin," she said.

"Yes?"

"It's time for bed."

Groaning in protest, he sat back heavily, sloshing soapy water to the floor. Padmé tried to ignore his lecherous eyes openly wandering her small frame, as she stepped from the tub and wrapped herself in plush white towel.

"Pouting is not going to change anything," she reprimanded, pulling a brush through her tangled wet hair. "We have to be up early and I'd like to be in bed by midnight."

Surreptitiously, she watched him glance at the chrono, his eyes and grin widening when he saw it was quarter 'til.

"Padmé," Anakin said, pointing at his observation with a cheeky smile.

Feigning nonchalance, she glanced at the chrono, dropped her towel and slowly sauntered from the room. She threw a look over her bare shoulder just before she disappeared from view.

"Tick, tock," she teased.

As she walked into the master bedroom, the sound of water sloshing all over the tiled floor made her grin in anticipation.

 _~Fin_


	6. Chapter 6

_A/N: I am sooooo excited to have this one finally out of my system! Time to advance this little plot along! I hope you can all forgive me for the lack of timely updates, but once again, life interferes. Thank you all for your kind words and gentle nudges of encouragement. I will do my best to keep this going, although a tiny bit of patience is asked of you, gentle reader. As always, reviews are greatly appreciated! Oh and the lyrics in this section are borrowed from Garrett Hedlund and Leighton Meester's rendition of_ Give Into Me. _I do not pretend in any way to take ownership of the song or its crafted lyrics._

* * *

 **Spira  
** **Hideaway Bay Resort and Spa  
** **Main Conference Center  
** **140000**

Padmé wanted to yell and scream obscenities at the top of her lungs. She wanted to smack the false concern off the faces of the five Separatist Council members seated across the table. She wanted to slap their platitudes out of the air.

She wanted the feeling of Anakin's arms around her to be real, not just the Force-memory he was creating to keep her sane.

Or was he just trying to keep himself from lashing out at the utter waste that was this negotiation so far?

For a moment, Padmé let herself see red. An image of Anakin flipping across the table, his lightsaber blazing and locked beneath Gunray's throat, as she turned page after page of a treaty for the Neimodian to sign. The utter satisfaction roiling through her veins was almost crippling in its power. Her thoughts swam with the heady emotion of self-righteousness as she saw each of the members take their turns scrawling signatures at the point of her husband's blade.

Then, she blinked, the vision and emotion gone.

Boldly, she turned in her chair to face the perpetrator, her face a warning scowl. Anakin tried to smile back, but his mouth contorted into a tortured grimace.

So he was attempting to distract himself?

Padmé settled back into her chair, sighing loudly. She felt the ghosts of his fingers begin a rhythmic kneading along her shoulders, and sent him a silent thank you.

"For the last time, we will not agree to unrestricted trade along the main commerce routes," Bail said, angrily. "You can phrase it anyway you want, but the answer will remain no."

"Then I fear we have nothing more to discuss," San Hill replied. He gestured with long spindly fingers to his side of the table. "My fellow colleagues were hoping to open negotiations, but it is very apparent to us, that the Republic is not willing to compromise. So we will have to fight for our wants."

"What you are proposing, Senator," Fang Zar spoke in his deep baritone, "is an unrealistic request. Absolute unrestricted trade would grant an enormously unfair advantage to large conglomerates like the Trade Federation and the Techno Union. Smaller business would fall by the wayside, unable to compete, and then monopolies would dominate the system."

"Surely, you can imagine the pain and suffering that would follow by those who could not afford the steep prices such monopolistic commerce would create?" Mon said. Her appeal toward whatever feelings sat across the table fell on deaf ears.

"We would offer a fair price on all our goods," Nute spoke. "You have our word…"

"Your word is meaningless to this group, Viceroy," Padmé snarled. "Or have you forgotten your history?"

Gunray leaned back and fixed her with a slimy smile.

"Ah yes, Senator Amidala," he said. "I remember your refusal to sign my treaty quite clearly. I promised more drastic measures would be taken if you did not see my point of view."

"Your point of view is barbaric," she sneered. "I would never sacrifice my people to deepen Trade Federation pockets."

"You may say that, Senator," Gunray said, "but everyday more systems suffer as this war carries on. What about the sacrifices you are making today?"

Enraged, Padmé rose from her seat, leaning as far across the table as her short frame would allow. She did not see Anakin start forward after her, only pausing when Bail placed a restraining hand on Padmé's arm.

"Don't even begin to presume you understand the sacrifices I make fighting this war!"

"Senator!"

Somehow Bail's voice managed to reach her. The visceral sensation of her anger tingled along her skin, electricity arcing from raw nerve to raw nerve. Her blood pounding in her ears, she straightened, her vision slowly coming back to focus.

Warily, Bail kept a steadying hand on her arm, watching for any indication of slipping control. Having the presence of mind now that the sudden flood of emotion was receding, Padmé nodded once.

"If you'll excuse me," she said.

Padmé did not see the worried stares of her peers as she hurried from the room. The warm breeze of the open air hallway welcome after the cool sterile air forced through the conference center. The pungent scent of the tropical paradise flooded her overwhelmed senses. Folding her arms across her chest, she took some deep steadying breaths trying to sort out the volatile emotions coursing through her.

She didn't begrudge the anger she still felt whenever she thought about the Trade Federation's ruthless invasion of her homeworld. The amount of pain and fear she had experienced during the first few months of her reign were always bubbling under the surface. It was as if she had catalogued them in an easily accessible shelf somewhere in her chest. After long hours of tireless work in the Senate, sometimes it was good for her to access the dark memories to drive her forward. To remind her that what she did day in and day out was worth the fatigue and wear. But she had always been able to contain it. Re-bottle it and store it when it no longer was fruitful to dwell on the negativity. To push it back when it threatened to consume her.

Consume her was what it just did.

 _Why did I let my feelings get the best of me?_ _Was it sitting across from that slimo?_

Padmé almost laughed at how easily the Tatooinian insult rolled through her thoughts. Oh Anakin, what are you doing to me?

"Padmé?"

Spooked, Padmé whipped around to face the sudden voice. Her hand fluttered over her heart, its beat rapid beneath her fingertips.

"Anakin, you scared me!"

He winced through an apologetic grin. "I didn't mean to." His face fell when she turned away from him, burying her face in her hands. "What's going on, love?"

Padmé turned suddenly at the term of endearment.

"Anakin!" she hissed.

Anakin gestured wildly around them.

"There's no one here. It's just me." He softened when tears sprang to her eyes, instantly coming to hold her. She didn't attempt to shrug away. "Talk to me, what's going through your head?"

Padmé snuggled into his chest, sighing heavily.

"I honestly don't know," she said. "I feel like my emotions just ran away with me." A wave of calm suddenly flooded through her, her muscles seeming to relax on her own accord. Confused, Padmé pulled back.

"Did you just do that?"

"Do what?" Anakin's blue eyes were wide with his question.

"Try to comfort me…"

"Of course, Padmé, you're upset. I thought you'd want to be held."

Padmé shook her head.

"No, through our bond."

"No, I told you before," Anakin said, "I can only reach you when you want me to. I don't force my way in."

Padmé frowned, considering his words. She believed him. Anakin had never forced his will on her with his Jedi skills. He had even taught her to mentally shield herself from Force sensitives, lest they catch her wayward emotions or sympathies. She had never had to shield herself from him, so she had never tried.

"Anakin?"

He came to her again, taking her small hands in his.

"Were you upset in the conference room?"

Anakin's brow bunched as he recalled Gunray's taunting speech. A searing flash of anger shocked her like an electric bolt.

"Of course, I was angry! Listening to that barve threaten…"

She raised a hand to temper his rage.

"I felt that," she said.

"Felt what?" Anakin said, confused.

"Just now, when you got angry again," Padmé said. "I felt that."

"But I wasn't projecting it just now."

"Were you projecting earlier?"

Anakin shook his head.

"Padmé what is going on?"

Padmé wasn't sure herself. Or even how to explain her suspicions. She just knew how to test them.

"Anakin, remember last night, after the bath…" she trailed off suggestively.

His own desire screamed through her, echoing deep in her bones. Anakin watched her eyes darken with want at the memory, his forehead scrunching in surprise.

"You can feel that?" he asked.

"I mean I feel my own emotions, they're just heightened," she said. "Do you feel mine?"

"All the time, unless you shield yourself," Anakin replied.

"Okay, well, let's try this," Padmé said. She took a deep centering breath and tried to imagine walls springing up around her. "Anakin, project something. Anything."

Overwhelming love poured into her like liquid gold. She closed her eyes, frowning and concentrated harder.

"Try something negative, I can't fight against that."

"Okay," Anakin said.

Searing pain streaked through her right upper arm, causing Padmé to cry out. Anakin caught her as her knees buckled, her left hand clutching tightly to her shoulder. Breathing heavily, she straightened in his embrace. The phantom pain faded almost instantly.

"I can't shield from you," she said, wonderously. "What does that mean? Can Obi-Wan…?"

Hearing the faint hiss of the conference doors opening, Anakin and Padmé jumped apart. Anakin assumed a courteous sentry pose while Padmé quickly turned her back to the politicians and Jedi filtering out of the apparently ended meeting. She turned to face them only when she was sure she was in complete control of herself.

"I'm so sorry about my behavior…" she began, halting only when Mon Mothma dismissed her apology. The Chandrilan Senator's arm came to rest comfortingly over her shoulders.

"Don't be silly, dear," she said in her smooth matronly voice. "Gunray was baiting you. A lesser being would have shot him on site."

"It was clear we weren't getting anywhere productive," Bail said, approaching. "We tabled the discussion for the day."

Padmé nodded.

"Some of us were actually considering going out tonight for a few drinks," Chi Eekway said. Her youthful smile was infectious. "Blow off some steam and what not."

"And by some of us, she means not me," Fang Zar said bluntly. "I need one stiff drink and a good night's sleep after listening to that trash."

"No problem," Adi Gallia interjected smoothly. "I'm sure the most popular Jedi in the galaxy are missing the limelight a bit." She winked at Obi-Wan, who rolled his eyes in response. Anakin pressed his lips together to hide an amused grin.

His own excitement rising in her, Padmé felt a smile blossoming on her face.

"Name the place and time."

* * *

 **Spira  
** **Ataria Island  
** **The Wandering Seashell  
** **200734**

The place was a local dive bar located a short walk from The Hideaway complex called The Wandering Seashell. The time was well past happy hour but that did not stop Bail from ordering a smorgasbord of wine and spirits from a vast array of the Core Worlds for his colleagues to sample. A stunningly tan-skinned Spiran with the blondest hair Bail had ever seen delivered the alcohol on a wooden platter carefully crafted to mimic the water skimmers that the natives rode, hovering over and spinning with the ocean's waves. The platter hovered over their glass table, the blue lights from the repulsors dancing along the smooth surface in rippling similarity to water.

Bail was glad the display was distracting in its beauty, as Padmé did not see the look of jealousy the waitress threw her way. The young Naboo Senator had chosen a most daring dress for the evening's festivities. The little black dress dipped so low in the back, Bail was afraid to let his eye linger. He was a married man after all and Padmé was practically his little sister! At least, that's how they viewed their growing relationship.

Over the top of his brandy glass, Bail could see the effect that her choice of evening attire was having on young Skywalker. Try as he might, the Jedi Knight could not seem to keep his eyes off Naboo's Senator for very long. And was it his imagination, or was Padmé sitting a little closer to Anakin than was absolutely necessary?

If she knew, she didn't let on. Her brown eyes roamed the interior of the bar, taking in the numerous goldenfly lights twinkling over their heads, the live band on stage twirling and keying away at their exotic instruments. The chocolate curls, usually so contained in any one of her endless headpieces, flowed freely down her back. Normally, so reserved and composed in her appearance, Bail could appreciate this softer side of Padmé, though she still was intimidating albeit for vastly different reasons.

Eventually, Padmé felt his considering gaze and when she turned to face him, Bail looked away. His eyes fell immediately on a decadent bottle of Corellian fire-whisky and he brandished the bottle with exaggerated fervor.

"Did we come out to drink this fine liquor or look at it?" he asked, twisting the cap off with a practiced flourish. "Master Kenobi? Master Skywalker? Which of you boys is game to do a shot with me?"

Obi-Wan raised his eyebrows when Anakin passed over his glass with unhesitating speed. Pointedly, he ignored Bail's own beseeching smile and frowned at his former apprentice.

"Easy, Anakin, the night is just starting," the Jedi Master cautioned.

"Are you implying you already can't keep up, old man?" Anakin teased back, good-naturedly as Bail poured the golden brown liquid into his glass. He threw it back, his face wincing at the searing heat that followed his swallow. "Gods, that's hot!"

Padmé and Mon shared knowing looks, gently sipping blush blesswine and shaking their heads at the ongoing antics.

"Come on, Kenobi! Live a little!"

Snatching the glass, Bail poured a healthy two fingers and offered it to his friend. Begrudgingly, Obi-Wan took the proffered drink and sniffed cautiously. His face instantly screwed up in response to the vapors dancing off the whisky's surface.

Anakin laughed, his cheeks flushed with the residual effects of the alcohol, as Bail filled his glass again. "It lasts only for a second, Master."

"Only for a second? Look in the mirror, Anakin," Obi-Wan said dryly. "Your face is redder than a Tatooinian sunburn."

"Alderaanian count…" Bail said, raising his glass.

Anakin and Obi-Wan raised theirs in agreement. In perfect unison, all three men pounded the table with their free hands "One. Two. Three!", downed the shot, and slammed their glasses to the table. Their raucous cheer earned them a few questioning and reproachful looks from nearby patrons, though the echoes were drowned out as the band picked up a lively tune.

As time passed, wait-droids came around offering a wide variety of appetizers and hors d'oeuvres. There was spicy fried calamari, crisp spring rolls, succulent cuts of sushi and sashimi, and a small cup of thick sweet soup that made them all swoon. They ate and drank until they were bursting at the seams, all the stress of their earlier afternoon affairs forgotten in the swirl of good company and alcohol.

When the Spiran waitress came around to check on them, several empty bottles of blesswine and a half bottle of brandy were set aside to greet her. She cleared the bottles, eyeing the group hopefully, but Bail signaled the galaxy-wide gesture for the cut-off. In turn, she smiled, somewhat less than enthusiastically and signaled for a bus-droid to collect their empty plates.

"Master Jedi," Padmé leaned into Anakin, her words slurring gently as the alcohol in her system began to take effect. "What would I need to offer you in exchange for a dance?"

Despite a few raised eyebrows, Anakin, ever the gentleman, laughed and replied, "Only your hand, Milady."

Padmé beamed at her conquest, slipped off her barstool and dragged Anakin to the dancefloor, their hands locked.

"And where are you two going?" Obi-Wan called just realizing the motion at the table. He narrowed his eyes as his former Padawan pointed at the Senator from Naboo, clearly distributing all the blame to her with one simple gesture.

"Going to enjoy my 'honeymoon'," Padmé retorted, her tone a touch acerbic.

Bail fought back a grin while Obi-Wan just stared after the retreating couple, and muttered, "No good can come of this."

"Oh relax," Bail chided. "We came out for some fun. What's the harm?"

Obi-Wan fixed his friend with a face suggesting he might want to provide an answer, but instead threw back the rest of his Corellian brandy and scowled.

The music began to die down as a dark-skinned humanoid stepped onto the stage, tapping the microphone to gather the crowd's attention.

"All right, all right," the emcee drawled. "Now we're going to slow it down for a little tradition we like to call the Couple's Slowdown Showdown. Where are all my lovebirds out there?"

Bail watched Padmé throw a pointed look Obi-Wan's way before joining the chorus of cheers that erupted around the patio. To his credit, Anakin managed to look somewhat sheepish despite the growing grin on his face.

"The rules are simple: my lovely assistants will gently tap the shoulders of the pair they wish to sit. Last two standing win bragging rights for Cutest Couple on Spira." The emcee leaned forward, bringing a hand to his mouth as if he were sharing a secret. "And between you and me," he said surreptitiously, "I see some of the sexiest beings in the galaxy in here tonight. Am I right?"

More cheers echoed around the outdoor bar.

"All right, all right, now ready couples?"

Bail watched Anakin bow formally, taking Padmé's hand, as she giggled and blushed. Studying them thoughtfully, Bail wondered if _only_ the wine was making her cheeks such a light pink.

"Then, let's dance."

The remaining seated members of the small party glanced around as the glow-lights lowered to a dimmer setting and the gentle notes of a popular Alderaanian ballad swept over the patrons. Couples of all different species kept trickling onto the dance floor even as the emcee's two Spiran assistants began to send the first few right back off. Bail couldn't help but focus on his two friends as they slowly spun in beautiful harmony to the lilting sway of the melody. He was mesmerized by the comfortable intimacy of their embrace, the genuine joy radiating from Padmé's muted laughter when Anakin whispered something in her ear, the easy smile on the Jedi Knight's face.

"Oh, look at them," Mon said, watching the two with a motherly affection. "I haven't seen Padmé smile like that in ages. I'm so glad she has such a good friend in Anakin."

Bail couldn't bring himself to look at Obi-Wan. Instead, he swirled his drink's contents focusing on the single ice cube until he was sure his suspicions were wiped clear from his face.

When he looked up, only twelve or so couples were left dancing. The music swelled to its famous pause just before falling into the key change, a transition that Anakin obviously was familiar with as he perfectly timed a gravity-defying dip that left the ends of Padmé's long hair brushing the sand floor. The surrounding crowd clapped their appreciation and Padmé, now upright again, blushed furiously, burying her face in Anakin's chest.

After a moment more, the melody coasted to its poignant close and the couples left standing separated joining the applause meant for them.

"Ladies and gentlemen, let's hear it for our top ten!"

Padmé turned to find their table and shrugged innocently at Bail, who wondered how really innocent what he just witnessed was.

* * *

Zed stopped his applause to finish his Coruscant port-wine and adjust the recorder he had tucked carefully in his lap. Not changing its view from the Senator from Naboo, he let his eyes track her Jedi companion, who was talking persuasively to one of the assistants as she retook the stage. The blue-skinned Spiran nodded an affirmative and he scampered back to his waiting dance partner.

Zed quickly tried to capture whatever he said to the glowing Senator but realized the emcee's continuing speech dampened his audio feed. Frowning, he fiddled with the micro-unit until her voice rang true in his ears.

* * *

"Anakin, what did you do?"

Padmé tried to fix her best scowl at her husband, but knew the wine swimming through her veins would make any real exasperation fade before it began.

"You'll see," he said, winking at her.

Padmé could only shake her head, as the emcee's voice announced the final showdown.

"Okay, Top Ten, you handled that Alderaanian classic gorgeously. How are you with a traditional duet from Naboo?"

Padmé's eyes shot wide open, but Anakin quickly pulled her body into his, until she had no choice but to wrap her arms around his neck in the typical stance of bride and groom. The tremors of excitement she felt in her belly only fluttered precipitously when the first notes rang out.

Then Anakin' s deep voice was singing along in her ear.

 _I'm going to wear you down  
_ _I'm going to make you see  
_ _I'm going to get to you  
_ _You're going to give into me_

He pulled back, smiling lovingly down on her, as she started to realize what he had done. The song was not only a well-known duet from her homeworld, it had been the first dance at their wedding. Though she had never complained, he had always known of her dream that someday, more than just 3PO and R2 would see them dance to this song. Padmé felt the tears burn her gaze, not quite believing the gift Anakin had given her. Blinking back, she joined him for the chorus…

 _Come on, come on, into my arms  
_ _Come on, come on, give into me_

And the verses after that.

 _You're going to take my hand  
_ _Whisper the sweetest words  
_ _And if you're ever sad, I'll make you laugh  
_ _I'll chase the hurt_

 _My heart is set on you  
_ _I don't want no one else  
_ _And if you don't want me  
_ _I guess I'll be all by myself_

Padmé barely noticed the other pairs slowly finding their seats at the edge of the dance floor, so intent was she on burning every minute of this moment into memory. Some part of her warned her that they were taking a risk, that everyone could brazenly see their undeniably smoldering connection. But Padmé damned that girl into the back of her mind. Let me just have this, she thought.

 _I'll use my eyes to draw you in  
_ _Until I'm under your skin  
_ _I'll use my lips, I'll use my arms  
_ _Come on, come on, come on  
_ _Give into me_

This music began to slow though Anakin pulled her closer as if he might be able to keep the dance going a little longer. His breath was warm in her ear as he pressed his cheek to hers.

"Happy anniversary, Mrs. Skywalker."

* * *

Across the bar, Zed Wyatt stared in shock at his recording device.

 _~Fin_


	7. Chapter 7

_A/N: Oh I am so so sorry for the massive wait. I have been trying to get out longer chapters but I have finally decided that this sort little update has what it needs for this section of the story. If I force more into it, I would have an enormous post and the chapter would be really two masquerading as one. Hopefully, you can see that why I need this little turning point to be so contained... if there are any of you left to read my little musings still ;) As always, reviews are greatly appreciated and sometimes ideas offered may make their way into this little whim of a story..._

* * *

 **Spira  
** **Ataria Island  
** **The Refuge, a local inn  
** **011200**

He had heard it clearly. He _knew_ he had heard it.

Mrs. Skywalker.

 _Mrs._ Skywalker.

Even his fanciful mind couldn't hope to dream something this scandalous in magnitude into existence.

And yet…

Again, Wyatt hit play with such a force as if striking the command with fervor would summon the recording from the depths of its inner circuits.

All he heard was white noise.

His recording device had failed him the one time he needed the hard evidence the most. No one would care about a holohgram of Senator Amidala dancing the night away with The Hero With No Fear. Everyone in the galaxy – even the miscreants in the Outer Rim – knew of Amidala's long-standing friendship with Skywalker.

But to reveal that they were in a relationship… A secret marriage, no less?!

He could see it now!

The front pages of not only the tabloid holozines, but the main screens of every Holonews network of every planet across the galaxy!

" _Breaking News: Scandal Amongst the Stars. General Anakin Skywalker and Senator Padmé Amidala have been married secretly…"_

"… _so Senator Amidala's true identity is actually Senator Skywalker?!"_

" _What does Naboo think of two of its heroes caught in this illicit affair?"_

Zed grinned eagerly, his mind's eye filling in the holos of a stolen kiss, video of a lingering embrace, anything to elaborate the story of the handed off keycard.

His mind running wild with the possibilities, he called up the footage from the previous day and let it cycle on a loop as he pondered his next move.

* * *

 **Spira  
** **Ataria Island  
** **Hideaway Bay, West Restaurant  
** **083315**

Obi-Wan was not the least bit surprised when Anakin and Padmé showed up together the next morning. He was surprised however, when his former Padawan, slumped next to him, seemingly a little worse for the wear from the night before. If Obi-Wan recalled correctly – and he certainly thought he did, two shots of Corellian fire-whisky were nothing he couldn't easily handle, thank you very much – the Senator was the one who had overindulged a bit, not Anakin. He could still see her fumbling to open her hut's entrance when Anakin had gently intervened and throwing his former Master an apologetic smile, ushered her inside to make sure the Senator from Naboo didn't hurt herself on her way to bed. Anakin had returned moments later, wearing a somewhat embarrassed grin, and proceeded to accompany Obi-Wan to their own temporary residences without so much as a stumble or slurred word.

And yet here Anakin was, cradling his head between his flesh and gloved hands, mumbling something that sounded a lot like a string of Huttese curses under his breath. Obi-Wan glanced to see Padmé smiling politely at the wait-droid who brought her a steaming pot of caf. He raised one eyebrow and sat back, crossing his arms to thoroughly enjoy the next few moments.

"Rough night?" he asked casually.

Anakin groaned something unintelligible, sniffing carefully at the breakfast suddenly set before him. His face scrunched and turned a pale shade of green, swallowing around the sudden bile rising in his throat.

"Didn't think I would ever live to see this day," Obi-Wan said.

"And what day is that, Master?"

He watched Anakin bravely nibble some toast before responding.

"The day I watch you nurse what appears to be a monstrous hangover. Just how many shots did you have, three?" Obi-Wan snorted. "Who knew you were such a lightweight?"

"I'm not a light weight," Anakin protested, wincing as the gathering laughed loudly at an event Bail was recounting to the group.

"Oh to be sure," Obi-Wan placated. "But one must really watch out for those glasses of blesswine… They do sneak up on you rather quickly."

Anakin narrowed his eyes at his former Master's mockery.

"I didn't even have any wine, you know that," Anakin growled, then softer to himself. "Though blesswine hangovers are the worst."

"I'm sorry, you're nursing a _blesswine_ hangover?" Obi-Wan asked, suddenly confused.

Anakin moaned, massaging his temples, a movement that caught Senator Amidala's eye. Her forehead creased in concern, but noticing Obi-Wan's stare, she immediately went back to the business of buttering her toast.

Obi-Wan wasn't blind. Despite Padmé's unmitigated fury regarding the role-playing she and Anakin had been forced to partake in, he could see that the level of intimacy between the two was not fabricated in the slightest. So when one's best friend slumps into a chair the morning after said best friend's object of affection appears to be completely unaffected by her previous night's indulgences, it didn't take Obi-Wan long to piece together the puzzle.

"You took her hangover, didn't you?"

Anakin nodded, opening his eyes and staring blearily in Padmé's direction.

"How noble of you."

Obi-Wan saw Anakin's scowl out of the corner of his eye, but to his credit, Anakin didn't offer a retort. Either his former Padawan was learning to control his sharp tongue, or the magnified effects of Padmé's stolen blesswine hangover had dulled his usually quick wit.

When Anakin gagged on a spoonful of scrambled eggs, he shoved his breakfast plate away in disgust and mumbled something about needing some fresh air.

Obi-Wan watched him pass a bewildered Adi Gallia, who sat next to her fellow Master.

"Is everything okay with Anakin?" she asked.

Obi-Wan sighed. It was times like this that he was sorely tempted to ask for advice when it came to counseling Anakin over what Obi-Wan largely suspected was an ongoing personal attachment. But to do so would not only jeopardize Anakin's trust, but potentially his place within the Jedi Order.

So Obi-Wan did what he had been doing ever since Geonosis; he turned a blind eye.

"Feeling the effects of last night is all," Obi-Wan lied smoothly.

Casually he sipped his caf, repressing a sigh of relief when Adi seemed to accept this answer at face value.

 _Sooner or later, Anakin, someone else is going to catch on._

* * *

Worriedly, Padmé watched Anakin stalk away from his untouched breakfast and disappear out of the restaurant. She fought to suppress the urge to go after him. Instead, she bit her lip, ducking her head and smoothing the napkin in her lap unnecessarily.

She could feel his nausea through their bond, strongly enough that it momentarily made her lose her appetite. The pounding in his head was a pulsing echo in her own. The longer she lingered in their open connection, the more she felt her skin flush, her palms turning clammy and sticky in her lap.

And then just like that it was all gone. She took a deep breath and found her phantom illness was indeed just that… phantom.

 _Let me deal with it, Padmé._

So he had severed their link to keep her from trying to share his burden. Well, what should have been her burden to bear. She should have never let him relieve her of her hangover. She should have dealt with the consequences of her actions from the night before herself.

 _Anakin_ …

 _You have more important things to do._

 _Yes, like worry over you._

 _No, like save the galaxy._

She fought to roll her eyes at his flair for the dramatic, and lost the battle, blushing furiously when he soothed her guilt by suggesting how she might begin to pay him back.

"Senator Amidala?"

Padmé blinked, startled back into reality. She felt the last few echoes of Anakin fade from her mind as the blood drained from her cheeks.

"Is everything all right, Senator?" Mon Mothma placed a hand gently on Padmé's forearm.

"Yes, yes," Padmé nodded. "Just spaced out for a moment is all."

Mon Mothma's green eyes considered her colleague for a moment, but then seeing Padmé's reassuring smile and reinvigorated appetite made her rethink whatever concerns she had just harbor a minute before.

"… we offer that?" Senator Eekway asked.

Padmé glanced up, trying to get back into the conversation.

"We need to figure out what the Separatists are after," Senator Zar said. "What they are truly after."

"What do you mean?" Mon asked.

Senator Zar swallowed his mouthful of shuura fruit before replying.

"If the Trade Federation were really concerned about lowering tax rates on central trading routes, we would have been at war ten years ago! No, what they are after is something much more troublesome."

"Go on," Senator Organa implored.

"After reviewing the latest dialogues and the notes from yesterday's meeting, it has become fairly obvious to me that what the Separatists want is more control across the board. Over tax rates. Over trade routes. Over planets under their control. Over planets they hope to acquire."

"Senator, if you could clarify…" Senator Mothma said.

"What if what we have to do is recognize them as a separate entity," Senator Zar said.

"Are you saying that we allow them to secede?" Senator Organa asked.

"They've already done that," Senator Eekway said. Her blue face flushed deeper as she considered Senator Zar's words. "What the Senator is proposing actually makes some sense…"

"We should offer to recognize the Confederacy of Independent Systems and begin negotiating a treaty that revolves around our co-existence as two separate governing bodies," Senator Zar explained.

Gasps echoed around the table and a fist slammed its wooden top, making the utensils rattle loudly.

"That is not an acceptable nor an intelligent option!" Bail exclaimed.

"We don't even have the authority to propose such a radical offer," Mon said.

Though Padmé didn't like it, there was some merit behind Senator Zar's thoughts. True, the idea of formally recognizing the Trade Confederation's push for an independent venture made Padmé's skin crawl, but so far, no one had been able to get anywhere with normal diplomacy. Sometimes you have to be rash, she thought, to overcome the most formidable obstacles. Anakin had taught her that. She quelled a betraying smile.

"I agree that recognition of their cessation at some formal level is an extremely brazen move at the moment, and probably not one the Chancellor and remaining Senate are ever going to approve," Padmé said slowly. "But what if we only propose such an idea to glean what more the Separatists are after?"

Setting down his mug, Bail glanced at her, the skepticism on his face blended with bewilderment.

"You mean dangle the recognition as bait?" Mothma chimed in.

Padmé felt herself nodding, her previous feelings of dread and vehement refusal dissolving into something that felt dangerously hopeful and optimistic.

"Exactly," she said. "We don't need to _actually_ recognize anything of the CIS, just suggest it…"

"… and see what the greedy bastards' response is," Bail nodded, catching on to the idea.

More heads started to nod in understanding around their little table.

"Well we have the day to draft this little proposal before we reconvene tomorrow," Eekway said. "Votes on soldiering on through the morning or meeting this afternoon?"

"I say let's get started," Bail replied. "I know we are here on business but I could certainly use an afternoon's respite. After all, I must find Breha some token from this sudden secretive trip."

As she joined in the laughter at the woes of Bail's husbandly duties, Padmé felt her own excitement rising.

 _Oh what I could do with an afternoon off_ , she thought.

 _More like who?_ came the cheeky disembodied reply.

At that Padmé ducked her head to hide the furious blush blossoming on her skin.

 _~Fin_


	8. Chapter 8

_A/N: WHAT?! Two updates in one weekend? Well, see what happens when I get past writer's block. :) But do be warned, Monday is just around the corner and as such so is this wonderful little responsibility called adulting. Booo! I know! I know! I'm hoping against all odds that these next few sections will just flow right out of the tips of my fingers like this chapter did. But I only write what these characters are welling to share. ;) As always, reviews are greatly appreciated!_

* * *

 **Spira  
** **Hideaway Bay and Resort  
** **Hut 138  
** **125959**

The soft thud of boots landing on sandstone was not unexpected.

Padmé felt his presence appear in the veranda's open frame more than she heard it. Grinning at his antics, she didn't turn to face him, even when she felt a warm warning over the back of her neck just before his lips landed there.

"Gotcha!" Anakin said, bending close to wrap her small frame in his arms. His face was full of mirth, but fell to one of disappointment when she merely turned in his embrace, greeting his frightful overture with laughter. "You didn't even startle."

"The Force warned me," Padmé replied, with a simple shrug. She turned to finish packing her shoulder bag with the last few items they needed for their afternoon retreat. Anakin slumped into one of the dining chairs, his brow creased in thought.

"The Force, huh?"

Seeing his consternation, Padmé dropped the sunscreen and went to fold herself into her husband's lap. Her hands on either side of his face, she placed a gentle kiss at his hairline.

"Anakin, look at me," she whispered.

His blue eyes were filled with worry.

"I'm sure whatever is happening is nothing to fret over."

"But what _is_ happening, Padmé?" Anakin said, his gloved hand twirling the end of her braid. "It's as if you're gaining abilities, like you're becoming Force-adept."

Padmé bit her lip to hold back the hilarity of the sheer puzzlement on Anakin's face. Apparently the notion of having a Force-sensitive wife was alarming to the Chosen One. Although to be fair, her utter vulnerability to his waves of emotion the other day had left her confused and more than a little troubled herself.

"Ani, it's probably some side effect from my being around you for more than a day," she said. "Remember after we were married? How strange our bond felt to me?"

Anakin nodded. He had been so in tune with Padmé's Force signature in the previous two weeks before the ceremony that he almost had been completely unaware something had in fact changed between them. But when Padmé started answering his thoughts without his having said anything, or when he had soothed her despair at the thought of their separation with simple projection, Anakin had realized that something stronger had been forged between them that night.

"I'm sure it's just like that," she said, when the memory had subsided in his eyes. "Now tell me how you found this place we're going."

* * *

 **Spira  
** **Hideaway Bay and Resort  
** **Sector 12 West  
** **132130**

How Anakin had stumbled upon the secluded lagoon tucked away in Sector 12 on the west side of the resort's sprawling grounds was even a bit of a mystery to him. After leaving the breakfast table before what little he could get down made a sudden reappearance, Anakin had wandered the west property aimlessly looking for any sort of distraction from the pulsing in his head. Not finding much remotely interesting, he had wandered back to Padmé's hut fully intending to bury himself in the softly scented sheets when he saw the little dirt path disappear into the palm grottos surrounding the residence. Upon further investigation, the trail looked worn but relatively unused given it's slightly overgrown state, but as Anakin continued, the faint tracks of several alien species became more apparent the deeper into the rainforest he went.

"What's at the end?" Padmé asked, as he paused recounting his explorations to study a Dorian passion fruit. Deeming them sufficiently ripe, he added two large pieces to the wicker basket tucked over her arm and gave her an infuriating tight-lipped smile.

"You'll see," Anakin said.

Padmé sighed, but before she could air her grievance over this unnecessary clandestine charade, Anakin had caught the attendant's attention and was already placing an order for take-out from the little café. She watched him study the handwritten menu on the back wall without any wariness – apparently his ravenous appetite was returning, thoughts of his upset stomach completely forgotten – and wondered what he would pick from the list of lunches.

Bergruutfa cheesesteak?

Firaxxan shark tacos?

Roasted gornt kabobs?

Suddenly, Padmé frowned at the fact that she even _had_ to wonder. As his wife, shouldn't she have the intimate familiarity with her husband's own food preferences? Thinking back to the few meals they actually did spend together, Padmé was at a loss to actually remember a time that Anakin had expressed a choice. Most of the meals she made were accepted with genuine gratitude and zeal but never once had he specifically requested well… anything.

Sensing her unease, Anakin looked at her worriedly. "Did you want something else?"

Padmé started at the question. "I'm sorry, what?"

"Did you want something else?" he repeated, then added upon seeing her blank stare. "Besides the kabobs and slaw?"

"Ummm, no," she replied, desperately trying to regain her footing in the present. "Oh, wait! Drinks?"

As if reading her mind, the attendant slid two large canteens across the counter. "Two artesian waters in insulated packs." Eyeing her with his single orb in what Padmé could only interpret as patronizing judgment, he finished, "Just as ordered."

Handing over her keycard with the simple command of "Charge to the room", she bit back some very un-ladylike comments while Anakin packed their meal. Her sandaled feet smacked harshly on the wet stones of the café's floor as they made their escape, though she could still feel the attendant's scrutinizing gaze.

When they were several more agitated strides away, Anakin reached for her hand and slowed her protesting march.

"Hey, what's wrong?"

Ducking his head to meet her own tucked eyes, Padmé tried to hide the tiny pricks of frustration threatening to blur her vision.

"Did you not want the kabobs?"

"No, Anakin the kabobs are fine," she ground out, swiping angrily at the betraying tears falling freely down her cheeks. "I just…" She sighed heavily.

"What, angel?" Anakin sank to his knees, gently turning her chin up to look at him.

"Sometimes I feel like we don't know each other at all." Padmé watched Anakin's face twist with confusion and rushed to elaborate. "There in the café," she explained, gesturing back from where they came, "I had no idea what you would want to eat and..."

"I didn't know that myself and I wouldn't expect you to…" Anakin interrupted half-chuckling and immediately wishing he hadn't when he saw her anguish return.

"That's not what I meant! I just… errr." Usually so eloquent, Padmé found that the sudden onslaught of realization at how immature their relationship still was, was making it extremely difficult to explain. Anakin waited patiently, if warily, for her to start again.

"Ani, I don't even know what foods you like! What foods you don't! I've never asked you what your favorite dinners are, or what restaurants you prefer, or… or… well…" Her hands fell audibly to her side. "What are you smiling at?"

Anakin's eyes and mouth, crinkled in that rare infectious mirth, made her own mouth twist into a reluctant smile.

"You know a lot more than you think, Padmé," he said.

"Oh really?"

Anakin nodded, bending to retrieve their lunch sack and resuming their trek. He waited until he felt her fall into place beside him before starting his little quiz.

"What do I think of Lanteeban eggs?"

"You hate them, almost as much as you hate curried lambshanks."

"Correct, what do I usually drink at breakfast when I'm over?"

"The blue milk," Padmé replied, then gritting her teeth. "And usually right out of the container."

Anakin grinned unapologetically.

"Taaba root?"

"You ate those to be polite in front of Bail."

"But I'd rather…"

"Mom's mashed kaachi potatoes which you mix right with roasted shaak and Banya peas and everyone looks at you everytime like you're either a heathen or a genius."

His grin was now a smile.

"See? You do know me. Just like I know you as Miss-Does-Not-Let-Any-Food-Touch-Ever."

Padmé narrowed her eyes, trying to contain the smile forming from his little dig.

"I just happen to like things separated."

"I just happen to think you always have to have control… even over your Banya peas and gravy."

"Mixed peas and gravy is not appetizing…"

"…it's delicious…"

"…it's disgusting. They get all mushy…"

"…it all gets mushy anyway…"

Padmé was laughing at his irascible logic by this point, and shaking her head simultaneously. Anakin beamed at her, her newly found lightheartedness even sweeter knowing he was its sole creator.

"Ok, but really, ask me what my favorite dinner is," he said, his tone weighted with a little more gravity.

"Ok," Padmé agreed, fixing him with a mock serious stare. "What's your favorite dinner?"

"Any dinner I get to eat with you."

Her reply was only the most radiant smile Anakin was sure had ever existed in the entire galaxy.

* * *

 **Spira  
** **Hideaway Bay and Resort  
** **Hut 138  
** **141700**

 _Come on, come on, how long does it take to retrieve a datachip?!_

Wyatt adjusted his macrobinoculars, trying to see any movement in the small windows of the hut. Nothing but the gentle sway of a gauze curtain on the incoming ocean air. He growled to himself, more from paranoid agitation than from actual frustration.

 _I hope she's not actually attempting to clean. Surely she noticed the 'Do Not Disturb' sign. That's like the equivalent of 'piss off' in maid speak, is it not?_

Wyatt bounced awkwardly on the balls of his feet, trying to re-establish blood flow to his lower legs. How long had he been crouching in the bushes anyway?

A branch cracked behind him, and Wyatt dropped cleanly to the ground, half expecting Skywalker to emerge himself. Seconds later, a small squirrel hopped in a series of starts across the path, it's mouth carrying the dregs of someone's discarded lunch.

Wyatt blew out a sigh and resumed his previous position. What in actuality was only minutes but felt like eons passed before Baena appeared. He instantly stood up, grimacing at the sudden rush of blood to his feet, and stepped back into the path just as she turned around. Her tiny fingers were folded around what he sure hoped was the datachip.

She beamed at him as she approached.

"All set," she said, proudly dropping a small silver metal square into his outstretched palm. "And I replaced the scanner just as you requested. I do have to admit, I'm impressed at Naboo's engineering."

Wyatt frowned, trying to keep his mind in the conversation. Thankfully, Baena did not seem to notice his infatuation with the datachip.

"An entire security scan program contained in one piece of circuitry."

She shook her head in amazement.

"Yup, pretty incredible," Wyatt murmured. _And pretty idiotic of you to believe this whole ruse, but oh sweet little girl, how glad I am you did._ "Well once again, Baena, the Naboo Royal Security guard is indebted to you and your honorable service of its Senator."

"My pleasure, sir." She dropped into what Wyatt presumed to be an attempt at a curtsy. "Please let me know if I can be of further service to Senator Amidala."

Wyatt plastered a smile to his features.

"Most certainly."

 _Most certainly not._

As Baena turned her maid trolley and walked away, he waited, his toe-tapping erratically in anticipation. Wyatt had a good feeling about this datachip. How could he not? When Baena was clearly out of sight, he forced himself to walk the whole stretch back to The Refuge.

His room was exactly as he had left it. Datapad and holoprojector booted up, each beacon flashing in steady cadence reflecting full power. His hands shook as he slipped the datachip into the waiting tray of the holoprojector, his heart pounding as the machine accepted the transaction and whirred into work. Less than a second passed and blue hologram of the Senator's hut blossomed into existence. A chrono was the only motion in the whole picture as it ticked away the seconds of the recording.

 _063000_

Wyatt smashed the fast-forward command and watched several hours of footage in a matter of moments before the hologram changed.

He watched with bated breath as Senator Amidala walked in, and then promptly exhaled, when he realized she was alone. A few minutes of footage revealed practically nothing of interest. She moved about the living space, taking stock of her surroundings before setting several luggage bags onto the bed. Impatient he skipped past her unpacking, her quick trip to the refresher – she only splashed her face and brushed her out much to his chagrin – and reading some datapad contents with an intensity that almost bored him to sleep. But eventually he watched the holographic Senator grow restless herself. Rising from the lounge, she poured herself a glass of wine, changed into her nightgown, and left his view.

Wyatt sighed and was about to press the fast-forward command once again when the image changed. Another figure strode into the hut from the main entrance, and Wyatt felt his heart leap in his chest when recognized the tall dark-haired man as none other than Anakin Skywalker. Anakin walked carefully through the room, intent on what Wyatt was sure was the Senator just past the open veranda doors.

Completely engrossed in the hologram, Wyatt almost missed the start of their conversation.

" _Anakin, how many times do I have to tell you not to undress me with the Force?"_

 _Jackpot!_

Wyatt barked in laughter so loud, jumping to his feet so fast, his hoverchair careened backwards, bouncing off the small bed and disappearing around the corner of his small room. He allowed himself a minute of celebratory dance, before popping open his mini-fridge and cracking open a locally brewed Spiran ale.

Who the hell cared if he ran up his bill with overpriced domestic booze? He was staring at his next year or two of pay in holographic form right here!

Grinning broadly with the ale's foaming head spilling down his chain, Wyatt sat down and promptly began typing his proposal article as the recording continued to play.

 _~Fin_


	9. Chapter 9

_A/N: Gah, I know it's been forever and a half. And I can't promise it won't be another lengthy wait between updates. I can only hope you have the patience to see this one to the end. Thank you thank you for all the kind words and votes of confidence! You are all far too sweet._

* * *

 **Spira  
Ataria Island**  
 **Myknossis Marketplace**  
 **153024**

For what seemed like the tenth time, Bail picked up yet another vase of sea-glass, studied the custom handwork momentarily, and then set it back down among the numerous other wares being sold in the Myknossis Marketplace. Though incredibly beautiful and delicately crafted, nothing stood out among the numerous urns and glass vases and shaped sea creatures as the best trinket with which to gift Breha. Before the wareseller could attempt his pitch, Bail strode onto the next table and began again his unending search.

While studying the intricate folds of a ballerina's dress captured in mid-twirl, Bail caught himself hoping that Obi-Wan was not losing his patience at this thus-far fruitless outing. Surreptitiously glancing back at his Jedi friend, now adorned in less conspicuous garb, he seemed needn't to have worried over his own trivial concerns. The creased brows on Obi-Wan's face suggested something far more troublesome than souvenir-searching was holding the High Council member's attention.

Bail frowned thoughtfully considering his recent observation over his friend's plight. If he were to point out his concerns to Kenobi outright, he would surely not ascertain anything more than a polite dismissal. No, to glean information, particularly of the troublesome variety from the depths of Obi-Wan's austere mind, one needed to approach in a far more subtle manner.

"I hope I am not boring you, Obi-Wan," Bail said, shaking his head in supposed bemusement as he studied more of the crafts on display. "How nice it must be not to worry about returning home empty-handed to a waiting spouse."

"Oh not at all, Bail," Obi-Wan replied with a slight chuckle. "I am sorry my mind seems to have wandered. I suspect Master Gallia may have been a more appropriate shopping partner."

"My wallet seems to disagree with you on that sentiment; no doubt I would have returned with numerous items instead. The female sex, no matter the species, is very adept at spending credits," Bail said, grinning.

"I will take your word for it."

They lapsed into a comfortable silence for a moment, before Bail felt the inexorable tension rise once more.

Blast, he'd just have to ask and be done with it then!

"Is something troubling you, Obi-Wan?" He met his friend's questioning look head on. "If your forehead creases anymore, I'm afraid your eyes will completely disappear."

Obi-Wan opened his mouth to deny anything was on his mind, then caught Bail's raised eyebrow and realized that while he could attempt to lie, Bail would not believe him for a minute. Instead, he sighed and gestured to a stall across the sandy path that was far less crowded and afforded an easier place to talk.

"I am concerned about the lingering effects this mission may have on my former Padawan," Obi-Wan started. He grabbed a large spiraled seashell with an asymmetrical pattern of brown that only accentuated its curved edges and handed it to Bail for consideration. Bail was instantly mesmerized by the simplicity of the shell's design and gestured to the wareseller of his intent to buy.

"On Anakin?" Bail asked, trying for casual interest.

"As you know, Anakin wasn't raised in the Temple since infancy, and thus has a tendency to form strong emotional attachments. Sometimes I think his ability to connect with others lends him an incredible insight into very complex situations – I myself have learned, and am still learning a great deal from him," Obi-Wan continued, selecting several more shells to add to Bail's collection. Bail did not dare interrupt. "But I fear the danger that can come from such personal attachments, as well. Especially, well…"

Obi-Wan frowned, and Bail could see the struggle to not betray Anakin's character steal the momentum from Obi-Wan's speech.

"Especially, the relationship he has formed with Padmé," Bail supplied.

Obi-Wan looked up, surprised, his mouth falling open and then snapping shut.

"I do not mean to make you more troubled than you already are, but I must admit I have noticed a similar interest where the Senator is concerned."

To Bail's own surprise, Obi-Wan's face fell further and he nodded in agreement.

"I was made aware of her reciprocal feelings just after the events of Geonosis," Obi-Wan said. "I was instructed by Master Yoda to approach the Senator regarding the terms of her growing relationship with Anakin, and a certain unpleasantness ensued."

Bail was immediately reminded of the heated argument he had witnessed several days ago in the hallway of the starskiff.

"She didn't deny her feelings then, but agreed to end whatever was forming between them for Anakin's sake," Obi-Wan continued. Bail watched, as he hesitated before swallowing hard around some rare emotion Bail suspected Obi-Wan did not ever allow others to witness. "For a time, all seemed well. But watching them together on this trip…"

Obi-Wan shook his head, pulling abstractedly at his bearded chin as he recalled recent memories.

"You think they deceived you," Bail said.

The simplicity of that statement seemed to overwhelm Obi-Wan. He instantly started to backpedal, stammering and sputtering around an attempt at an apology for involving Bail where he did not need to be involved.

"Obi-Wan!"

Obi-Wan stopped mid-sentence, and if Bail thought the Jedi Master could ever look chagrined, he imagined that the expression on his friend's face was a prime example of that.

"For what it's worth," Bail continued, his tone gentler and quieter, "I agree with you. And while it appears that I may not be as involved, I think that ship has already sailed. You remember Lanteeb?"

"I do."

"When Padmé thought… well when _we all_ thought, you and Anakin were in jeopardy… Obi-Wan, you should have seen the _fear_ in her, the ferocity with which she worked to create that independent militia to bring Anakin back."

"Anakin, you say? How do you know she wasn't petrified over losing me?"

Bail gaped like a fish out of water, before Obi-Wan smirked and scoffed at his own terrible joke.

"It's the beard isn't it?" Obi-Wan murmured.

Bail grinned, catching on. "I could not imagine that boy with a beard…"

"Oh it's downright ghastly."

They shared a chuckle over the image of a facial-hair stricken Hero-With-No-Fear, but then turned their attention back to the more serious conversation point.

"So I'm not imagining things," Obi-Wan sighed heavily.

Bail considered his friend's resignation and frowned. He didn't like seeing Obi-Wan so troubled, didn't like remembering the weights he carried around silently, ever the martyr. Their joint time on Zigoola was a testament to that character flaw. Bail almost snorted at that. Master Kenobi and character flaw was a most ridiculous pairing in the same sentence.

"Well if you seem to be imagining, I'm living in the same dream," Bail said. It wasn't really meant to affirm Obi-Wan's worries, more than it was to finally state his own observations for the record. Bail had been silent only because he did not wish to cause Padmé any further trouble. No matter how much he liked to watch out for her, she was a grown woman and was capable of making her own decisions. It was not his place to report the two, but Obi-Wan…

Ah, and there's the rub.

As member of the High Council and Jedi Master, was Obi-Wan obligated by duty to voice his concerns over Anakin's "attachment"? Bail knew how close Obi-Wan and Anakin were. Practically brothers. Inseparable on the battle fields and forever bound as master and apprentice. Did Obi-Wan think his duty to the Order trumped his duty to Anakin?

"You say Anakin isn't like other Jedi…" Bail began, treading slowly in the uncharted waters of this conversation. Obi-Wan studied him, only a flicker of wariness in his dark blue eyes. "… insofar as he wasn't brought up in the Temple, and so had a decade of molding outside of the Jedi doctrine."

"Yes, that's right," Obi-Wan said.

"Is it possible that to apply the same rules, as far as attachment goes, are counterproductive in his case?"

"He's already been subject to a number of special treatments and exceptions, I fear even more will be his undoing. He's become headstrong, sometimes impatient, and reckless…" Obi-Wan started, stopping only when he saw Bail's careful smile. "What?"

"Is that Obi-Wan talking, or the Council?"

Obi-Wan blanched.

"Believe me, Obi-Wan," Bail said, raising his hands in deference. "I do not mean to insert my nose where it doesn't belong, and I agree…" Bail raised one hand when Obi-Wan opened his mouth to protest. "I have seen Anakin's rash behaviors displayed all over my Holonet screens. But when you think about, when you _allow_ yourself to really think about it, do you see those behaviors demonstrated around _her_?"

Obi-Wan stroked his beard and forced himself to consider Bail's words carefully. Come to think of it, whenever Anakin had mysteriously disappeared from the Temple for a night, he'd always returned more grounded, more centered, more at peace. His boiling energy had been reduced to a gentle simmer. It was often these times that allowed Obi-Wan to see the potential Anakin had to become one of the greatest Jedi ever known.

"You're right, Bail," Obi-Wan replied, his vision swimming back to focus on the present. "I have seen the positive effects of the Senator's influence on him. I just fear how easily he may slide to darkness if, stars forbid, anything ever happened to her…"

Bail opened his mouth to agree, to echo that that same sentiment caused him consternation as well. He was glad he didn't, however, or may have not caught the softly spoken sentence that perhaps revealed his friend's motive for turning a blind eye.

"… or if anyone tried to interfere."

* * *

 _ **Spira  
Ataria Island  
The Refuge, Unit 91  
160000**_

It had been at least half an hour since the recording had ended; the holoprojector had waited the sufficient amount of time for its next task and when none was forthcoming had powered down to an energy saving mode, leaving the room in darkness.

Wyatt hadn't moved, his eyes still bore into the space over the holoprojector's port as if seeing the ghost of the last holoimage. His beer had turned warm with the relative humidity of the room.

Surely, he hadn't heard right.

Shaking off the remnants of shock, Wyatt calmly hit rewind, played the last few moments of the recording, and then powered off the projector.

His fingers found themselves attracted to the keyboard, as if they were somehow magnetized to continue his proposal. And yet, instead of adding more characters and words and sentences, his right forefinger calmly hit the backspace and held steady. He watched the blinking cursor on the screen ravenously devour the last half hour's work of words until there was nothing left.

Even as his hands worked to pull up a database on the galactic interweb, Wyatt knew he was toying with a scandal far more worthy of just a tabloid reveal. And potentially something far more lucrative…

The screen of his datapad flashed and he scrolled until he found a name. Checking the source as any journalist worth his salt would do, he smiled as he re-read the number listed before him.

On a list of "The Galaxy's Who's Who" and corroborated by a very short search on the tax records of the sentients of Naboo, Wyatt was pleased to find the estimated net worth of one Naboo senator was a figure that made his original idea of simply selling the story to a holozine seem like folly.

He was certain that Senator Amidala would pay far more to keep her precious little secret exactly that – secret.

"Why Senator Amidala, I do believe some congratulations are in order," Wyatt said aloud to the darkened room, grinning as he reached for his communicuff. "Or should I say, Senator Skywalker?"

 _~Fin_


	10. Chapter 10

_A/N: Ah it's been so long again... and I have no good excuses. *bows head in shame* Thank you all for the wonderful reviews. They do truly help me find the way to soldier through these "writer's blocks". The worst part is, it's not even a block, just a lack of time to sit down, set aside life, and escape into this world. I find that if I try to rush the story-telling, it ends up unfolding in an essay format, more like a Cliffs Notes version and you my kind readers are worthy of so much more. I hope I find that most of you have not left completely, your words of encouragement are practically life-sustaining!_

* * *

 **Spira  
Ataria Island  
Sector 12 West Lagoon  
160000**

Padmé couldn't remember the last time she felt this relaxed. For the first time in a long time, her mind was silent and she could feel the pulse of the living world around her.

The Spiran sun was warm on her skin.

The fragrant breeze pulled gently through her hair.

The soft caress of Anakin's…

 _No!_

She scrunched her brow in intense concentration and suddenly the intrusion was gone. Blinking against the brilliant sunlight, she opened her eyes to see Anakin grinning at her.

"That was better," he said, proudly.

"One more time," Padmé said. "Don't hold back."

She closed her eyes, the muscles in her jaw clenching determinedly. Anakin watched her let out a centering breath before he started in again. Stretching out with his mind, he tried the usual routes through their Force connection and was impressed to see all access points were blocked.

 _Ready or not, here I come_ , he thought. Delving into himself to draw more power, he started to see the barriers she was mentally constructing almost in real time. Her Force signature, usually so bright and full of warmth, was slowly dulling and cooling moment by moment. With each of his attempts, she raised more mental barricades until he was completely locked out. He continued to challenge the fortress around her mind until he saw her lips press together, struggling to keep up her walls against his onslaught.

Satisfied with her progress, Anakin pulled his legs from where they dangled into the cool water of the lagoon and rose to stand next to her.

Feeling his physical movement next to her, Padmé peeked open one eye.

"Really?"

When Anakin nodded the affirmative, she fixed him with a radiant smile, and sighed heavily with relief.

Anakin returned her smile, his pride at her accomplishments melting into a devilish grin.

"Now deflect this."

Without further warning, Anakin dove into the depths of the jungle pool, sending water raining down all around an unsuspecting Padmé. He made sure to surface well away from his wife, who had completely opened their Force connection and was doing her best to infuse it with indignation.

Padmé rose, dripping water, and pushed strands of soaked hair out of her face. She locked eyes with Anakin, who floated in the middle of the lagoon, his blue stare daring her to come extract her revenge. Just as her body flexed into the beginning of a dive, she saw Anakin turn and swim for the shelter of the waterfall.

"Oh you better swim, Jedi," she whispered, before springing and letting the lagoon envelope her body.

* * *

 **Spira  
Ataria Island  
Hut 138  
170000**

A sudden knock at the door startled both of them. Anakin jumped to his feet, his mechanical hand reaching for the lightsaber that should have been at his left hip.

For a moment, he and Padmé exchanged a panicked look, before she motioned to the couch.

"Hide, Ani!"

But Anakin was already in motion, diving behind the chaise lounge and settling into a position where he could see and not be seen.

Another knock at the door.

"Coming!" Padmé yelled. Hastily, she adjusted her robe tighter and breathed once deeply before answering the door.

A silver protocol droid stood in the entrance, its arms laden with a basket of local fruits and flowers.

"I have been asked to deliver a gift to a Senator from Naboo," the droid said.

Padmé beamed, "That would be me. Thank you." She took the basket, feeling a blush rise in her cheeks.

"You are most welcome. Enjoy the rest of your stay." The protocol droid tottered off as Padmé gently closed the heavy wood door.

She turned, placing the gift basket on the table, smiling knowingly as Anakin emerged from the sitting room.

"Ani, what have you…" she started, stopping when she noticed the card stock tucked between some nectar fruit. "Ah, such a romantic."

"Padmé, I didn't…"

But Padmé was already reaching for the note, slipping her finger through the seal. Something fell to the floor with a metallic clank, and Anakin quickly stooped to stop the datachip from rolling noisily on the tiled floor.

"Who's it from?" he asked.

Padmé didn't answer. The flush from her face had paled into a gray-green color and she wavered momentarily on her feet. Anakin was at her side in a flash, settling her into a chair just as her knees gave way. Her mouth gaped like she couldn't catch her breath, and her brown eyes were wide with a fear Anakin hadn't seen before.

Gently, he took the card from her hand to see what had her so spooked.

 _Congratulations seem to be in order, Senator Padmé Amidala Skywalker._

The warmth of the summer Spiran afternoon seemed to disappear instantaneously from the room. Anakin felt his heart tumble over itself fighting to keep a regular rhythm. His mouth felt dry. His hands felt clammy. His fingers shook as he placed the datachip in the datapad that had laid abandoned on the table all afternoon.

He didn't have to look at Padmé to see her panic, the waves of unease and nausea were churning tumultuously, emanating from her presence like a stormy sea.

"Playback unavailable," an automated voice said.

"Kriffin'…" Anakin scowled, rising and searching the room erratically for a holoprojector.

"It's in the entertainment stand," Padmé said, her voice unnaturally calm. Her Senate voice, he called it.

He retrieved the holoprojector, placed it on the table, and inserted the datachip. A hologram of their room appeared, empty of all beings. Anakin and Padmé exchanged puzzled looks before a tinny voice spoke, startling them in its abruptness.

"My dear Senator, how happy I am to see that you are taking to heart your constituent's concerns about your lack of personal life. It's a wonder to me that you haven't revealed such joyous news to them already. But I'm sure you and your staff have your motives for being so hush-hush and I intend to honor your wishes for silence in this matter. If you wish to keep your secret hidden from the galaxy, a sum of five million credits should be left at The Wandering Seashell by twenty-hundred hours tomorrow evening. You will drop the credits on a table marked with a red candle. A protocol droid will retrieve the bag. If the droid is interfered with in any way, or followed, I will release the following film and we shall see how accepting your adoring public is of an illicit marriage to a Jedi."

The still blue image of their room suddenly sprang to life. The curtains floated on an unseen night wind, and laughter that died prematurely echoed from somewhere offscreen. Seconds later, Anakin and Padmé watched themselves fall into the living room, locked in a passionate embrace. Hologram Anakin relinquished his hold of Hologram Padmé long enough to Force slam the patio doors shut, earning himself another giggle from his wife before pulling her down with him to the couch.

They both continued to watch, mortified, as the recording showed Padmé sit up, straddling Anakin and slowly gathering the nightgown up her thighs. Anakin groaned beneath her, her gown hiking just a little faster with the twitch of his fingers.

"Really, Anakin?" Padmé chastised, though she continued to gather the shimmersilk up past her hips, "Did the Jedi teach you nothing of patience?" With a fluid crossing of her arms, she pulled the garment over her head, dropping it casually on the floor.

"I do not believe Master Yoda included lessons on restraint when one's wife is tormenting her husband as you are doing now, milady."

Swatting at Anakin's roving hands, Padmé frowned down at him. "I see," she said, stretching luxuriously and tossing her hair over one shoulder. "Then I guess I'll just have to amend that slight oversight." She began to slither her way down his body, letting his utility belt fall heavily to the floor. "Consider this your first lesson, Anakin," she smiled at him, watching his eyes darken as she made quick work of his roughspun pants. "I don't want any interference for the next several minutes, or you will find yourself paying a most dreadful price."

Anakin's head fell back as Padmé's lips ghosted over him. He groaned, but managed to get in one last quip before the recording ended.

"Padmé Amidala Skywalker, I believe you are the Sith Lord we have been looking for."

The recording ended, the holoprojector ejecting the datachip with a soft hiss.

Neither Anakin nor Padmé moved to retrieve it.

No one seemed to move or breathe for what felt like minutes.

Anakin's mind raced. They had been over multiple scenarios regarding their response to the revelation of their marriage. No matter who found it – the endgame was the same. Anakin would accept his expulsion, and Padmé would most likely step down from her post in the Senate. They would return to Naboo. Depending on Naboo's citizens' reaction and her approval ratings, she would lie low for a few standard months and then most likely find a local government job or teach political classes at the university. Anakin, well… he'd find something.

But they had never considered blackmail from an unseen foe.

Shock gave way to thundering rage and Anakin stood with enough force to knock his chair over in the process. He strode determinedly across the room, pulling the furniture away from the walls in search of the technology that had betrayed them.

He scoffed at the sight of the tiny remote sensors stationed strategically around the room. They weren't even hidden all that well.

His flesh hand curled into a tight fist, the sensors falling victim to his outstretched Force rage, collapsing in on themselves and obliterating the tiny data crystals harbored inside. Anakin swept the perimeter of the hut, collecting and destroying more of the same in the bedroom and bathroom. The patio was clean.

When he returned to the table after dumping the destroyed remotes down the garbarge chute, Padmé was once again holding the cardstock. Her fingers gently touched the scripted font, brushing back and forth over the black cursive words. After a moment, she looked up, fixing him with a watery smile as tears fell silently down her cheeks.

"I've never seen my name written before," she whispered. Anakin felt the wave of grief rush out at him an instant before she dissolved into sobs. She didn't even try to resist him pulling her into his arms.

"I will find who did this," he whispered. "I promise you."

But even the danger in his voice died feebly in the pained quiet of the room.

 _~Fin_


	11. Chapter 11

**Spira  
** **Hideaway Bay Resort & Spa  
** **Main Entrance Lobby  
** **172200**

His blue eyes narrowed dangerously, Anakin scanned the resort's atrium for any sign of the silver protocol droid. Two Spirans worked the front desk, the female only stopping her work to stare at a him a second longer than was absolutely necessary, but her gaze didn't seem searching… more appreciative.

Anakin sighed loudly, his breath rushing out in almost growl.

Fine then, he thought, I'll have to do this the hard way.

He strode over to the main desk, forcing his shoulders to relax and what he hoped was a charming grin onto his face.

The female looked up, blinked, and asked with a smile, "What can I do for you, sir?"

 _Sir?_

It took Anakin only a brief second to collect himself, realizing that his attire did not lend itself to his instant recognition as a Jedi. He hoped that his charm would be enough to convince her to help him.

"Ah, yes, umm…" His eyes quickly scanned her name tag. "Dechra?"

She beamed at him.

"I just received a gift basket at my suite and the droid who left it didn't give me the sender's name," Anakin explained. "I was wondering if you could help me locate the individual who sent it."

"Perhaps you have a secret admirer…" Dechra smiled at him, gamely.

Anakin fought the urge to scowl.

"Well, it wasn't really addressed to me," he said, "It was meant for my wife."

Dechra's face fell ever so slightly at his last words, but she recovered almost immediately.

"I see," she said. "And the sender wasn't you."

Anakin unleashed his full charm at her then, relieved to see that she was quick on the uptake.

"Hence my quandary."

 _Now there's a word for you Obi-Wan,"_ Anakin silently congratulated himself.

"I should be able to help you out," she replied, keying into her work station's terminal. "And what's the suite number?"

"138."

Anakin tried to wait patiently as Dechra typed in a few more commands to bring up the recent list of room deliveries. He wondered how Padmé was getting along, and for a moment felt guilt wash over him at leaving her. She had agreed that trying to find the droid was the best lead they had, but he still felt slightly unnerved at the cool resolve that had fallen over her wife just before his departure.

"I see one fruit basket was requested this afternoon by a gentleman, no name was left." Dechra peered closer at her terminal's glowing screen. "And it appears he self addressed the gift message."

Anakin frowned, his mind working furiously. Someone, some _man_ was cavalier enough to threaten his wife and yet smart enough to not leave a name…

"Wait," Anakin said, replaying her words. "A gentleman?"

"Yes sir, I believe Oz helped him place the order." She glanced down at her male counterpart who was watching the exchange none too discreetly. "Oz! Didn't you place a gift basket order this afternoon?"

"I did, quite a few actually," the man named Oz said, coming over to join them. "Most of them won't be delivered until next week."

"But one was delivered today?" Anakin prompted. His gloved hand was clenched into a fist so tightly the gears started to whir in protest. He forced himself to relax.

"Yes, the man sent one of our protocol droids to deliver it," Oz said.

"Did he leave a name?"

"No, sir."

Anakin ground his teeth together. A pulsing was starting in the back of his head and he hoped Padmé hadn't taken the last of the blockers this morning.

"Can you describe him?"

"Ummm," Oz looked uncertainly at Dechra, who nodded encouragingly.

"He was a human, about 1.7 meters tall, brown hair, light skinned."

 _That could describe about four million beings in the galaxy,_ Anakin groaned to himself.

"How did he pay?" Anakin asked.

"With a card, sir," Dechra said, but she caught the glimmer of hope in Anakin's eyes and immediately cut it off at its source. "But we don't release that information to our guests."

Anakin studied Dechra and Oz, sizing them up simultaneously. Whoever hired the staff at Hideaway Bay must have done their homework. These two were strong-minded and as such, a perfect fit for the first line of defense at the resort. He wondered how often they had to ward off the inquiries of crazed fans, would-be enemies, and news reporters.

"Very well," Anakin said, offering a smile that had lost some of its original charm. "I appreciate the help."

He turned to leave, recognizing a dead end when he saw one, but stopped when Dechra called after him.

"If you excuse my asking, why do you want the name so badly?"

Anakin studied her, reading genuine concern and sympathy on her face. Maybe she felt a little guilty about her role in his troublesome search after all. _Well good_ , Anakin thought darkly. _Because I may have to return with some stronger persuasion tools._

He tried to not let the darkness seep into his voice.

"How else can I send this gentleman an appropriate thank you?"

Anakin did not wait to see if she heard the threat in his voice.

* * *

 **Spira  
** **Ataria Island  
** **Hut 138  
** **171500**

When Anakin had left in search of the protocol droid, Padmé had stood calmly, walked to the refresher, and closed the door behind her. The pitch black room was a relief, the artificially cooled air a balm to flush of her heated skin. She couldn't tell how long she had stood there, slowly cataloging a list of emotions and filing them away. It was an exercise she had been taught in her first months in the Legislative Youth Program, a way to settle the chaos into some semblance of order.

Only when she felt she had the wayward emotions securely locked away did she flick on the refresher's lights.

The young woman staring back at her in the mirror showed nothing on her face save a grim determination. The only hint of weakness were the tracks left by her tears down her cheeks. Padmé splashed her face with water, rinsing away the last betraying signs of her fear. Blowing out a steadying breath, she quickly twisted her loose damp hair into a single braid that laid over her right shoulder.

"All right then," she whispered to her reflection. "Let us begin."

Retrieving her comm from the bedroom, she placed it on the small kitchen table and powered the device on. The comm's hail signal flashed several times before a middle-aged woman answered the call. She was still settling herself into place when her form morphed into a blue-hued figure.

"Senator Amidala!" she said with mild surprise. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

Padmé felt galaxies better seeing the attentive face of her Public Relations Advisor before her. She hadn't always seen eye-to-eye with Lireé. In fact, in her years as Queen of Naboo, Padmé often saw her prying as meddlesome and unwelcome. Lireé was constantly inquiring as to her personal outings, her relationships, anything that could reflect poorly on the royal family or court. Padmé used to say it bothered her because she had had nothing to hide.

But then almost three years ago, Lireé was one of the first people Padmé had contacted after her marriage. She remembered that hurried meeting between Lireé, Dormé, Captain Typho, Anakin and herself. She remembered Anakin's blatant anxiety, Dormé's excited astonishment, and Captain Typho's wary acceptance. But most of all she remembered Lireé's unwavering coolness. Lireé had calmly listened to the events that had transpired and simply started to plan the possibilities regarding a public revelation, assuring that she would do her best to make sure none of these designs would ever be necessary.

Padmé hoped that Lireé had meant every word of that promise.

"Lireé, the summer is almost over."

Lireé frowned momentarily, then her green eyes opened wider, her lower lip parting slightly with sudden understanding.

"I am on a secure line, Senator," Lireé said slowly. "What happened?"

Padmé wasted no time in explaining the cease-fire negotiation, the gift basket, and the blackmail.

"Anakin is searching for the droid that delivered the gift basket."

"Has he contacted you with anything he's found?" Lireé asked, looking up from an unseen datapad where she scribbled notes furiously.

At that moment, Anakin blew into the hut with all the fury of an unchecked gale wind. His scowl quickly dissolved into one of boyish curiosity when he saw the meeting he was interrupting. Padmé silently motioned him to a seat, repeating Lireé's question.

"No, the only description I got was a human male of medium height and brown hair," Anakin said, the frustration evident in his voice. "The staff said he paid with a card, but they refused to release the number."

"And your Jedi abilities couldn't persuade it out of them?" Lireé asked. She didn't mean to sound chafing, Padmé knew that Lireé could be brutally blunt when in her information-gathering mode, but she also knew that Anakin's emotions were too close to the surface to not boil over at the slightest provocation.

"In case this escaped you, Milady, but I hardly think we would need your services if I _had_ used my Jedi powers to extricate such sensitive information. Padmé and I would already be a headline across every news channel from here to the Outer Rim!"

Lireé wisely chose to ignore his outburst, but her eyes did catch Padmé's soothing squeeze of Anakin's flesh hand.

"How would you like me to proceed, Senator?" Lireé asked, "Of the options we discussed at our initial meeting, we certainly can pursue a few…"

"Complete containment," Padmé said. Her words were overly pronounced, the grit and determination cutting and reflective of the tension radiating from her husband. Anakin looked at her with a somewhat startled surprise at her aggressive response.

"Very well," Lireé replied. "Though it may be easier to put forth a statement using your covers as the simplest explanation for your 'marriage.'…"

Anakin and Padmé exchanged uneasy glances.

"What have you not told me?"

Anakin looked down at their entwined hands, and Padmé hoped Lireé couldn't see the violent red flush spreading across his face.

"The blackmail message came with some rather sensitive holographic footage…" Padmé started, swallowing around her own embarrassment.

"I see," Lireé said, her tone calm and collected like the professional that she was. "Can you please describe to me the contents of this footage?"

Padmé blanched.

"Senator, it is imperative that I understand what I am trying to contain. If I don't have all the pieces, I cannot put together an effective public relations containment strategy. Your constituents will find holes if there are any to find. You don't need to show me the footage but I have to understand exactly what is in it."

Next to him, Padmé was drawing very measured breaths. There was a long moment of silence, and Anakin started to fear that he would have to be the one to explain.

"The hologram shows my husband and I in a very intimate moment and we use our real names, not our aliases, while engaged in that moment." Padmé's cheeks were a dark pink but her brown eyes stared determinedly unblinking at her public relations advisor.

"Thank you, Senator. One clarification, if this was a scene filmed for Holovision or the theater, would it be approved by the NGCC?"

Anakin's eyes widened in unadulterated horror.

"Not for mainstream media, but it may be approved on the most repugnant of private channels."

"Thank you for your honesty, Senator. Now, Anakin," Lireé said, turning in her screen to regard the young Jedi. "You mentioned something about a credit card?"

"Yes, but I wasn't able to get the actual number," Anakin said. "It wouldn't be hard to find if I could get access to those records, but I don't have the equipment necessary to set up a trace. Can you do that?"

"Not from my end, not off-planet," Lireé said. "Not easily anyway," she half-clarified to herself. "Interplanetary securities over communications and databases are way too complex to manage that kind of maneuvering without being caught. Let alone the sheer amount of time and manpower something like that would require to even get up and running."

"Not off-planet…" Padmé echoed, her voice drifting as her mind raced.

"In the meantime, I have put out a galactic wide halt on new bulletins associated with you, Anakin, or the Jedi and any cross-combinations thereof. Any items requesting release will have to redirect to my station at the NGCC for verification on authenticity and approval."

"A halt?" Anakin asked, confused. "But this blackmailer won't go through official channels. A halt will mean nothing to him."

"He will if he intends to make good on his promise to make your marriage public," Lireé explained. "And no official channel, no matter how repugnant, would risk releasing such a scandalous story without first seeking verification. It would be embarrassing to the channel and all those involved would potentially lose careers over a released and un-authenticated story."

"But he could still release the footage on his own," Anakin argued.

"That would only be a small inconsequential and probably unnoticed ripple in the galactic pool of news and entertainment. Amateur releases happen all the time but none ever make it to the surface in any lasting way. I could trace and eradicate pinpoint releases one at a time if necessary. In fact, I've already intercepted a few errant photos and one short exchange for the Senator since her new term renewed."

Anakin looked to his wife, his expression one of shock and disbelief.

"I'm a public figure, Anakin. Lireé is here to help safeguard my private life. She fed stories to the press the entire time we were hiding on Naboo before the war."

"For instance, Anakin," Lireé said, "since this conversation has started, I've already warned the major communication centers around the galaxy that tabloid rumors surrounding Senator Amidala's private affairs have increased. Any stories that are obtained by any affiliates should be submitted for proper authentication per the usual channels. Ah, see, here's a message already asking if our dear Padmé is vacationing on Alderaan with the pop star, Raze Landry." Lireé almost smiled to herself. "I mean really, Senator, these people have no imagination."

Padmé offered her advisor a weak smile.

Anakin, still bemused by this unknown side of his wife's career, refocused on Padmé.

"Why did you mention off-planet before?"

Padmé blinked a few times, searching for Anakin's train of thought before catching it again.

"Ani, if you had the equipment to set up a trace on planet, could you do it?"

Anakin swallowed as both women turned to regard him with something that looked like hope.

"I think so," Anakin said, a little unnerved.

"Then I think I know someone who can help us," Padmé said to them both, then directly to her husband. "But you are definitely not going to like this."

 _~fin_


End file.
